


Because Serenity is Overrated

by Eridanae



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Yoda is a Troll
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-05-21 20:34:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14922380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eridanae/pseuds/Eridanae
Summary: He had been waiting all his life and non-life for this moment: to finally become one with the Force. But no, he had to find himself embodied again and in the past! He wasn't sure if it was because of Anakin or Yoda, but when he would become a Force Ghost for the second time, he would make them feel his displeasure.Let it be known that nobody messed with an Obi-Wan Kenobi doped up with Force Powers and an unusual understanding of the Force - being dead had its advantage after all.





	1. (33 BBY to 29 BBY)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first word of this fic, because I imagined what a lone Obi-Wan Kenobi could do to a vast galaxy if he was free to go as he pleased. After all, had he been alone on the Death Star in ANH, he would certainly have self-destructed it and would have been gone with a stolen ship before anyone could have said "Jedi". And the man is a magnet for troubles, but always, he managed to remain more or less intact.
> 
> This said, I don't really know where I'm going with this fic, and it will stay in a format like that: scene by scene.
> 
> Well then, people... Enjoy !

¤

“Anakin, that is not funny. Not funny _at all_!” he told the air around him, absolutely upset by this change of circumstances.

But, evidently, there was no one to answer him, as he was quite alone. Alone, in a forest. What the ever loving karking hell was he doing here? He was dead and finally happy with his duty to the Galaxy and the Force done. So why was he here? And not blue? Or transparent, for that matter? Well, he knew Anakin was involved – because when was he _not_? – but he couldn’t say in what manner. _Yet_.

¤

(The low buzzing had begun right at that moment, but he was too busy to take notice of it.)

¤

Force, he was like a youngling! He had near forgotten what he had looked like without a beard, and he was reminded of why he had grown it in the first place: he had a baby face!

And why was he at such a young age? He was more than sixty in mind, but in body he looked like a too fresh man, just out of boyhood! What was that? What age did he have?

A stray thought passed in his mind and he grasped it before he could forget it. With that, he took the datapad he had stolen from somewhere – or was it someone? – went on the holonet and looked at the date.

Kriff, Obi-Wan Kenobi was supposed to be twenty-four and he looked like it! Well, the good thing was he didn’t have to begin his adolescence again. What a pain it would have been to be a hormonal teenager through puberty, _again_!

¤

Oh well, the more difficult part of this plan was behind him now, wasn’t it? He was finally on the planet and nobody had detected his coming. He stayed in the cockpit of the ship, trying to put together a plan which could withstand hell. Because that was the important part. Whatever plan he did make didn’t really survive in the end and generally went to hell, but if the objectives were completed, the mission would be a success nonetheless. What was then important, was planning for _when_ the plan went to hell. That was the differences with Anakin and himself: Anakin improvised, but him? He liked to plan for the unplannable and have the advantage.

Now, he could have claimed he had acted a little precipitously before parking the ship in the turbulent waters of the ocean planet. But it certainly was better than his _actual_ first frantic thought: his first thought about the Plan had been to stealthily crept behind Palpatine the Sith Lord and end his life before he could make the lives of others more complicated. This idea didn’t last long, because there was a lot he didn’t know about the Sith, like: who was his master and when did he kill him? For all his “advanced” knowledge of “future events”, it was pretty incomplete. It meant that for him to have the advantage, events would have to unfold like the last time, until the point when he was sure of his knowledge and he could act.

But! And he knew it sounded a lot like Anakin in his head, this little voice claiming he could somehow damage Sidious’ efforts without alerting him. And without alerting him of his presence. Or was that his double presence? Because he knew – he had spliced into the database of the Jedi Temple to find this information with the codes he had been given when he had been a Councillor (and wasn’t that disturbing, to know codes from more than ten years from now were working) – that there was another Obi-Wan Kenobi in the Temple at the moment, actual Padawan to Master Qui-Gon Jinn.

And so, after all this intellectual session with himself, where all his thought went from one point to another, he had _encouraged_ a rather vexing smuggler to let go of his – only – possession and return to his remaining family, letting behind his ship – in need of some repairs – and his job as a beginner smuggler. Ben – as he went by now – was rather proud of that single act of reuniting a family, when he had nicely landed the man on the said planet with his sister. The wars were looming and it would soon enough separate all families in the galaxy, by political ideology, death or some other thing.

With the ship in his possession, and some detours around the Galaxy to make some changes as the Force willed it, he had finally directed it towards one pivotal planet in the galaxy. A planet rather unknown. And it was all the better for him, for a rather unknown planet wouldn’t receive many visitors and he would have the freedom to change things. Hopefully, for the better.

That had been then, and now, he had put his ship underwater, skilfully avoiding detection. He stroked his beard thoughtfully.

 _Welcome to Kamino_ , he ruefully said to himself. _At last, change was coming._

¤

(He had ordered all droids and things mechanical to be looked after because he couldn’t support this incessant buzzing he heard everywhere he went.

Nobody told him the droids weren’t the problems.)

¤

Learning all there was about the clones took time and a fair bit of paranoia. And some patience, but after nineteen years in a desert, you bet your lightsabre that he was a patient man. Without forgetting the years when he had lived with Anakin as his Padawan or mission partner. Yes, he was, without a doubt, very patient. He wondered sometimes if he wasn’t more patient than Master Yoda – and the troll had been _waiting_ near nine hundred years to simply _die_.

He started his new goal by looking at the age and education of the clones. Then, he sliced in the terminals of the cloning facility of Tipoca City to learn from the point of view of the cloners. That was when he learned about the chips, given to them by Master Sifo-Dyas and modified by Count Dooku.

His memory took him back to a conversation he had had with Anakin about the clones named Tup and Fives, when one of them had tried to kill a Jedi out of nowhere – with a bit of researches, the Jedi had been told the chips had the function to make them a little less like Jango Fett, a serial Jedi killer. A shiver ran along his back and a feeling like dread engulfed his stomach. It had been a long time since he had had a bad feeling and this one was terrible indeed.

(Because it had been the Chancellor, who had told them that particular thing.)

 _Lies and Deceit are of the Dark Side_ , he reminded himself, taking a deep breath.

He sliced into the programming of the chips.

And his heart started beating like a mad gundark in his chest.

He understood now, how the clones had been coerced to do the bidding of the Dark Lord of the Sith – Order 66. How they were nothing more than glorified droids. And more than that, he understood better why Jango Fett had been chosen. A Jedi killer cloned millions of times to produce Jedi killers.

Ooh, that Sidious.

It was his poetic justice, wasn’t it? The end of the Jedi and the Order by all who had been wronged by the Jedi: the Sith, the Mandalorians… _And_ , he thought with regret, even _General Grivious_ – he had learned the story of the cyborg when he had been floating as a ghost around the galaxy after his death – and to some extent, Count Dooku – who was maybe _still_ Master Dooku at the moment, and wasn’t that a little befuddling to the mind.

Hmm… Maybe it was time to take an appointment with the man? Or would contacting him and trying to save him change too much? He was here to change things, but Dooku had been the Apprentice and a big player in all this game of life and death and war. He would have to meditate on that later.

¤

(The buzzing at the back of his head began unnoticed, like a background sound you didn’t really know was here until after it stopped _being_ here.

But now? Now he had noticed it. He didn’t know what it meant.)

¤

He didn’t know if it would work, but he hoped with everything he had and more, that would be the case. The chips had been too well put together for him – and his meagre knowledge of biology and even his not so shabby programming experience (he had had Anakin under his wing after all and his old Padawan knew a lot of those things to make life more interesting, if one wanted to begin a carrier as a criminal) – to do something more than this ludicrous idea. And so, adding one tiny line of code in the enormity that were the chips would be quasi undetectable and the salvation of the clones and the Jedi. It was his best bet. He just hoped the Chancellor didn’t speak shyriiwook…

Because, yes, he had added that the Orders had to be ordered in shyriiwook for them to work. And what a pain it had been to add the language to the chips without the kaminoans noticing! He didn’t think it would make the clones linguists, but he wasn’t totally sure. He would have to wait and see.

… Oh yes, and now, he was imagining the Sith attempting to talk the language of the wookies while ordering the death of thousands.

The Chancellor wouldn’t know the language. He might understand it, but he wouldn’t know to speak it with how very xenophobic the Sith had been. Such a shame for him. Such a boon for all the clones and Jedi.

He authorized a self-satisfied smile to appear on his weary face.

¤

(The habitual buzzing sound at the back of his head went off and brought forth a ringing so powerful and so sudden, he gasped and wavered on his feet, before finding a wall and his footing to stabilize him.

A shatterpoint that he hadn’t even known existed until now went extinct.

It was only later, when he could think more coherently, that he understood he had been so affected by it, because _this_ shatterpoint connected all Jedi around him. All in the Jedi Order.

A shiver of dread ran along his back.)

¤

He had concluded that Dooku was too important in this scheme of the Sith to change too much events, but it wasn’t too late to try and save him from the Dark Side. Politically, the man had been right and somewhere in his mind, Ben agreed with him, but he wasn’t so sure about systems departing from the Republic. After all, the problems of the planets in the Outer Rim – those joining the future CIS – were the consequences of years and years of corruption and manipulation in the governing body of the Republic. The Senate was infested with it. There were only a few Senators that were acceptable and some of them weren’t even Senators yet. The resolution of this corruption would be in intervening in the Senate and let the good Senators take care of things and not in eliminating completely the Republic and the Senate to begin a new government, comprised of the more corrupted of the lot: like the Banking Clan, the Techno Union and the Trade Federation.

For Force’s sake, Ben _knew_ that and Dooku was a much more brilliant man than him, concerning political subject. Count Dooku had certainly had a few brain cells fried when he let Sidious and the Dark Side corrupt him. That was this brilliant mind that he wanted to save.

And so, he had decided to remind the man of the good of the Light Side of the Force – and the clear headedness the Light brought – and the corruption of the Dark Side of the Force – by attempting to goad him into a political debate and to show him he wasn’t the same anymore, because he _obviously_ couldn’t do it right. After all, the corruption Dooku was even attempting to eradicate in the Republic, he let himself be led astray by it, as it did the Senate! Again, an irony Sidious had played with.

 _You will remind my aging master by being at your most annoying, I suppose, Padawan Mine_ , a voice whispered in his ear.

He grinned and inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“Yes, Master.”

Indeed, since he was back from one of the possible futures – that was his own past – and since he hadn’t lost any of his training of the Whills, he could talk with Qui-Gon Jinn. The first time he had seen him, he had been so shocked, that the first sentence from his mouth had been something like: “You’re already dead, Master?”

(The time since he arrived in his own past seemed to fly by him, without his noticing. He had learned it had been two years since then. Obi-Wan Kenobi was twenty-six years old and Ben Kenobi went on his sixty-three years.)

The man had laughed and then had demanded an explanation as to _why_ were there two Obi-Wan Kenobi in the galaxy.

The following conversation had been something else, but Ben was glad for the company, even dead company as Qui-Gon was.

 _Be sure to be extra_ maverick _for me, will you?_ Qui-Gon had demanded. _My old master is never_ too _old to learn a lesson. He is_ Apprentice _now, after all_ , he had continued, disgusted by the simple idea, but also sorrowful.

¤

Somewhere along the way, he went from “killing Palpatine” to “averting the Final Orders of Palpatine without alerting said man” to a new one that was something like: “making a better galaxy for the generations to come”.

He didn’t really know how he went from one to the other, but every action he took meant more in the grand scheme of things than he meant for them when he _did_ them. Not that he wasn’t pleased with an outcome like that, but it meant he had to readjust his plans continually and begin his strategizing all over again. And he knew to blame the Force for all that. Also, he didn’t like improvising very much, it reminded him that Anakin wasn’t here to save his skin this time around.

For example: he kept amassing followers. From all around the galaxy. From every kind of life. Loyal people, vexing people, stupid people. And all were considered dead by the Republic and had nowhere to go but to follow him. It was when their number surpassed twenty that he decided the tiny apartment he had them stocked – uhhr… lived – in, would not be sufficient enough. That was when he thought about a friendly planet and went from “which planet will be the most inauspicious?” to “which inhabitable but empty planet is the friendliest?”. The response went to him on a breeze, like the giggle of a child or maybe the first breath of a babe or maybe still, like the loving caress of a mother or that of a lover. It was all of the above rolled into one and he thanked the Force for the answer.

The next day, he and his band of followers were on his ship, which he had emptied of all cargo to make place for the twenty people, and _en route_ to the planet the Force had decided for them.

Tython.

He knew the beginning of the Jedi had been from there and maybe it would be the case again: a new beginning for the Jedi and all those who wanted to begin anew. There was a kind of poetic irony to it all and Ben knew it was all the Force’s Will – and It’s Humor and yes, he thought of it with a majuscule.

It was some times later that he understood some things about the Force and the mission he had been given by It. The Force allowed him to not make wave across the galaxy and to not alert the Siths: he amassed allies that everybody considered dead – and that nobody would search for – and had now a base. A real one and not the decrepit cargo ship he had been piloting all around the galaxy these last months and years. With nobody living on the planet, they could claim the place as their own. And if – or more likely when – the clones would have enough of the military and the war, he would be prepared to receive and welcome them with opened arms.

And that is how his long list of things to do went from one very important thing to an extremely long list of really important things.

He was already exhausted and he had not even begun the more taxing of the tasks ahead.

¤

It had been the work of many months and years to win the trust of the clones and then into revealing himself.

It had begun with a kind gesture here and there, without their knowledge. And then, he had go on with the gestures until they began noticing something was off. The children had thought he was some kind of ghost, here to be nice and make them laugh – and it was something easy, this kind of fantastical theory, to develop in the mind of children and he had maybe encouraged it along a little.

(And somewhere in his mind, he was shamed to manipulate them like that, even if it was with good intentions.)

He was brightening their days after all. And thanks to that, they didn’t reveal that something was amiss within the facility to the cloners.

Then, he had begun writing notes, general notes for the different groups and batches, giving advice and making jokes. When these actions weren’t reported too, he considered it a victory and began planning his next move: to show himself to the clones with his hopes that they wouldn’t ring the alarm or something to that effect.

It was a week later that he decided to present himself. He chose the moment to just after extinction of the lights and before they went to sleep, when the cloners would be gone and he could slice into the cameras and change the recordings that he had already done with this idea in mind.

He had chosen the 212th (or, more correctly, he had chosen a barrack where he had found the most number of familiar presences in the Force bunked together), because of his familiarity with them. He knew how to make them reflect better than anyone else. He had a better chance of being heard and not expulsed. Or so he hoped.

With a deep breath, he pushed the last button on the control terminal to make the cameras begin recording his ready-made recording. No alarm of any kind sounded, the silence was his only company. He exhaled and relaxed his hands from their tight grip on the chair. Time to begin the show, or more precisely, the show must go on, some part of his mind was saying.

He made his way to the barracks he had acknowledge as that of the future 212th. At the door, he stopped, centered himself in the Force, assuring himself when he saw all the light presences of the clones in the room, and opened the door silently. Nobody moved inside the beds, but he knew they weren’t sleeping yet.

And so, with all the refined finesse he had acquired through a lifetime of study and Jedi-ness, he put himself in front of the door after having closed it, crossed his arms on his chest, and in his most gentle and mischievous tone, he said:

“Hello there!”

¤

Maybe it hadn’t been his best idea to wake the clones like that, because they were trained in military forms and were a little trigger happy. It was his luck that their weapons were conscripted to the armoury and not next to their bunks in the barracks, or he would be riddled with a significant number of burn wounds that would have led to his premature death. Oh well, he was still alive, wasn’t he?

When he had defused the situation – when the clones had stopped trying to subdue him and stopped trying to alert the kaminoans cloner – with calms words and gesture and a liberal application of the Force to calm their minds, he had calmly stood in the middle of the room, circled by the clones.

“Well then. If we are finished… We can begin the introductions,” he told them, his arms crossed in his cloak, his face passive, with just the tinniest of frown between his eyebrows, showing his disdain for such a display a impolite manners. “My name is Ben and I am the friendly ghost that has been writing notes to you these last few years.”

¤

Their reaction had been… not what he had been waiting for. He had stood there, completely blown out of his mind as they had begun asking questions and trying to touch him to see if he was real. There were stars in their eyes and awe in their minds.

… Had he gone a little overboard, when “interacting” with them when they had been children? Had he really been “manipulating” them in believing in him? He had to admit, it wasn’t like they were really that much more than children, even if they looked like pre-adolescents.

(It had been four years since his timely escapade to the past and the clones were three years old.)

… Force! He hadn’t wanted that! Wasn’t it enough that people kept coming to him like followers of a cult?

The Force giggled in his ear and he sighed in exasperation, passing a hand over his face and tugging his beard in frustration.

¤

Ben was a secret known by all the clones. He was like a deity. _Their_ deity. He was a Force-user and he gave them all fair warning about all usage of the Force. He gave them information and useful advices for when they would be helping the Jedi they had been created for.

But more than that, he had given them their freedom. Oh, they knew all about the chips. Not the inhibitor chips as they were told at the beginning, but the slave-like chips in their head, stealing their freedom of thought like some karking droid.

¤

The Force wasn’t with him.

He put a bit lore Force-enhanced speed into his sprint to put more distance between him and his pursuers. It had been a little careless of him to do that, but it could be a great bonus for when events started accelerating in some years.

He didn’t even know why he was on this planet of all places. There had to be a reason for why the Force sent him here and why he kept getting distracted from the spaceport and his ship, as if he couldn’t depart from the planet now and had to wait for something to happen.

¤

“Oowww! E chu ta!”

“Langage, Anakin!”

There was a moment of silence and then…

“Obi-Wan?!”

“Anakin?!”

¤

(The Council was in a full meeting with two Master/Padawan pairs, when the pain in his head went from the buzzing sound he had become used to, to full blown fireworks mixed with the hangover from hell.

He couldn’t acknowledge the others Councillors to save his life if he wanted, with the pain radiating from his mind.

And he didn’t understand why his gaze kept flying back to the Kenobi/Skywalker duo present in the Chamber this day.)

¤

He hadn’t planned on Anakin being there! The Anakin he knew, the one who had joined him in the Force after killing Sidious and dying in the arms of his son, Luke.

And he had searched all pertinent information about one Anakin Skywalker via his Temple codes to be sure that this one wasn’t the other one from this new timeline. It seemed there were now two Obi-Wan Kenobi and two Anakin Skywalker in this galaxy.

Force! What a disaster! All his scheming and planning and strategizing, all will be good for the trashcans in a matter of days with Anakin here! His old Padawan had never acquired the subtleties he himself liked so much and in which he had put so much work for his plan to work.

It was like demanding to a herd of banthas to dance one of those twi’lek erotic dances.

Not. Possible.

“I won’t be that much of a bantha brain, Master,” Anakin had replied. “I can be inconspicuous,” he had said.

And promptly tried to go to Naboo to “take care of business, as usual, Master” he told Ben, as if it was the truth of the world and he was an idiot for asking the question.

“You understand that you are a near fifty year old man in the body of a twelve year old, don’t you, Anakin?”

“What?”

“Yes, that is why your voice is cracking all over the place, not because you have a sore throat,” Ben had told Anakin drily. So drily, in fact, that he was the one with the sore throat. “And as there already _is_ an Anakin Skywalker living in the Temple on Coruscant, appearing on Naboo will not be good. I absolutely refuse to let you go on some insane little adventure to see Padmé and kill Sidious, Anakin.”

He crossed his arms and glared impassively at his friend, when Anakin glared right back at him, before deflating completely, expression, shoulders and arms dropping.

Ben was a softy when he saw those expressions. He muttered under his breath.

“If you aren’t too busy planning your future plans killing Sidious in many awful but very satisfying ways, you will want to hear of _my_ plan and what it entails.”

Anakin appeared dubious at first, but the more Ben revealed his plans and his end goals, the more Anakin appeared excited.

Ben considered it a victory.

¤

(The buzzing in his mind stuttered a little, like a bad generator, before doubling in intensity.

He moaned in pain and drily swallowed the pain meds he daily consumed, because of these headaches. They weren’t nausea-inducing, fortunately. Yet. But he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He knew someone was trying to kill him by being an annoying nuisance to the Force and the shatterpoints all around the galaxy, which he couldn’t even know about. And if he didn’t know better, he would have bet his lightsaber on Skywalker, and on a minor scale, on Kenobi.

He will have to wait and see.)

¤


	2. (29 BBY)

¤

**(29 BBY)**

¤

“What apprentice?” Anakin snarled. “ _I_ am! Not anyone else!”

“Seriously, _Knight_ Skywalker?” Ben had answered, aggravated by the tone of his old friend. “That is what you were, wasn’t it? And may I remind you of your mental age, Anakin? You’re what now? Forty-eight?”

“Who is it?” Anakin continued raging, seemingly without having heard a word Ben had said. “I want a name!”

He rolled his eyes. What a dramatic little snit! How he had raised such a person, he sometimes wondered. And then, he reminded himself that the Emperor had been such a drama queen too and living with that Sith above one shoulder would make one tempted by dramatic gestures too.

He supposed puberty was not a good time either. Already a tempestuous man, Anakin was forced in the body of a teenager, with its mood swings and all that accompanied these hormonal imbalances. He had been a little monster the first time and now with the memory of years passed as Vader, Anakin was a downright terror.

And so, with a calm and serene façade, Ben let his annoyance flow into the Force and pronounced the name, already knowing he would be hearing Anakin rant and rant and _rant_ some more.

“Asajj Ventress. _Padawan_ Asajj Ventress.”

There was a beat of silence, loud enough for his heart to be audible in the room.

“WHAT!”

Ben sighed. Such a drama queen.

¤

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispered-shouted – because he didn’t know what _tact_ was. “She has _hair_!”

Ben closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, passed a hand over his mouth and tugged on his beard. In front of them, Asajj Ventress, now twenty and without a tattoo anywhere on her face, narrowed her eyes at the blonde boy just big enough to reach her chest.

“Who’s the new pet, Master?” she enquired, arms crossed on her chest, a glower gracing her features.

“Asajj, may I present to you… Ani. Sunrider. He’ll be your brother Padawan.”

“WHAT!” Anakin exploded.

“Sweet,” Asajj sneered. “Baby Ani. Babini.”

¤

Sometimes later, when he had said hello to his followers and demanded an overall review of all happenings since his departure to Asajj, he had finally been free enough to drag the ex-Sith Lord with him to have a discussion without anyone eavesdropping.

“Welcome to Tython, Anakin. This is the birth planet of the Jedi Order and with luck, maybe the continuation of the Order of this time.” He turned to his old friend and swallowed a pleased grin when he was reminded that he _was_ taller than Anakin for the moment. “What do you think?”

Anakin had his eyes semi-closed in an apparent semi-meditative state.

“There is something here. With the Force. It feels… not Light, but not Dark too.”

“Hmmm,” Ben hummed thoughtfully before immersing himself in the energy surrounding them. “You’re right. The Force feels purer here. But without alignment. I will meditate on it later.”

¤

“Master!” Anakin called with his cracking voice, before somersaulting from the top of the tree he was in, to where Ben was kneeling at its base, attempting to meditate. “Look what I found,” he cried with unrestrained excitement.

He had in his hand an insect, small enough to fit comfortably in the palm of his hand. The colour of its carapace was something between green and purple and Ben recoiled when he recognized what his irreverent old Padawan had in his hand.

“Yes, you see it, don’t you?” the malicious glee in the tone of Anakin gave him a Bad Feeling. “You know how it enters the body, slowly killing and poisoning all in its host, like the _malevolent parasite that it is_? What if we put it inside _someone_? Insidious, hmm? Good death for an Insidious Bastard,” he growled-purred the last words.

For his defence, being in Anakin’s company again may have aggravated his cognitive reasoning and so, he forgave himself when he considered the idea, even if it was only for half-a-second.

“We are not utilizing that to kill him,” he stated plainly.

Anakin straightened his shoulders in hurt disbelief.

“Why not?” he whined.

Ben pondered occasionally on how the Empire could have stood for so many years with Sidious and Vader at its head, when Vader had yet to reach a level of maturity befitting an adult.

¤

He wasn’t really sure what the difference was between when he was exiled in the desert of Tatooine and now. He had had many years to perfect this meditation in solitude – and with Qui-Gon ghost – and then he had had years to make it work _as_ a ghost. He should know how to do it without this new… thing. He was not sure how to feel if he was honest with himself.

Adopting his thinking pose – or his Councillor Pose as Anakin called it, sitting where he could, one foot on the ground and one on his opposite knee – he looked at his body some distance away, immobile in its meditative stance.

That was new. He didn’t feel dead – and he knew how _that_ felt – and he could see his body’s chest moving ever so slightly. He was breathing. But his conscious seemed to be with his ghost self. The only difference he could think of was that he had been dead and now, was alive. Sure, that could change a person point of view and comprehension of many philosophies about the Force, and maybe even the ability to grasp it, manipulate it, because they had been a part of the energy, they had been immersed in it. But… it seemed like a big change for something he didn’t even feel.

Anyway, he could always add more Force powers to his arsenal of knowledge about the Force. Even if this ability was…

Well. There were so many things an ability like that could be useful for.

He wondered if Anakin could see him as he was.

Hmm…

Time for a little experimentation.

¤

“Hi Obi-Wan, I was just looking through the pile of scattered droid parts here and I think – Obi-Wan?”

Anakin’s brow furrowed between his eyebrows and he looked around him. Then he sneered and flapped his hands in the air around him.

“Have you mastered the ability to become invisible with the Force when you were taking the cowardly road and borrowing yourself underground somewhere on a planet, Kenobi?”

His eyes lost their anger and became confused. He broadened his senses with the Force. There was no object – organic or inorganic – in his immediate surroundings. Why the kriff could he sense Obi-Wan just at his side, then? Was he losing it? Or maybe it was Ventress, he snarled in his mind. She was always goading him and threatening him. The harpy would not feel like a smug bitch for long if she continued, for she would feel his lightsaber through her –

“Ow!” he cried, jumping on one foot. “What the…” he trailed off, looking at the electronic part of a droid that had been dropped on him. Voluntarily. He could still sense the Force Signature of Obi-Wan around it.

With a glower, he took off in the direction he last saw his master.

¤

Well, that was that, he silently mused, while he re-integrated his conscious self with his body.

(Though, that would make the clones near prophetic in their statement of a ghostly Ben.)

¤

If a being as old as Yoda could be astonished, he would be the first to manage it. Last lifetime had been Qui-Gon, certainly, but his master had nothing more to do than make Yoda learn. Him on the other hand…

Well, he hadn’t been the one to have decided to stay on Tatooine, was he? He had been incapable of enough coherent thoughts to refuse and he had fallen on old reflexes: listen to the Grandmaster of the Order and obey.

He shuffled behind Yoda, who was meditating in his rooms. He opened his mouth and…

“Sense you, I can,” croaked the old wrinkled troll.

Ben closed his mouth.

“Knight Kenobi,” continued Yoda, before he opened his eyes and looked behind him.

His look of confusion was worth the effort Ben had to make to appear in the visible realm.

“Obi-Wan, dead are you?”

“Maybe I am, Master Yoda, or maybe not,” he answered with false serenity when all he wanted to do was cackle the day away.

He then faded, letting the image of a gaping Yoda imprint in his mind.

¤

/”Dead, you are not, Obi-Wan!”

Obi-Wan looked baffled for a second, before he re-inserted his control over his facial muscles.

“Of course not, Master,” he replied, honestly confused.

“Not good to make jokes with me, it is, Knight Kenobi!” Yoda told him, before smashing his gimer stick on the shin of the younger Jedi.

“Ouch!” cried Obi-Wan before jumping away. “I didn’t do anything, Master Yoda!”

“To the Crèche, you are assigned! Until I say finished you are! Hmrmrph!” the Grandmaster grumbled before walking away.

Obi-Wan let the _tap, tap, tap_ of the gimer stick fade away, before turning and stomping off to see a certain Padawan of his.

“Anakin!” he called the little miscreant. “What did you do to Master Yoda?!”

A crash sounded somewhere in the apartment and a muffled oath was heard.

“Nothing!” was the harried response.

“I hope your nothing is worth the job we got then! We’re on Crèche duty for the foreseeable future!”

“ _E chu ta_!”

“Language!”\

¤

Somewhere in the galaxy, a Ben Kenobi was busting a rib laughing.

¤

He made Anakin learn the special meditation and gave him the training of the Whills. He was supposing it would be easier for him, since Yoda and he had forcefully made him appear as a ghost for Luke on Endor, when all had been done. Anakin had to have remembered the sensation of that moment and with that in mind, he was hoping his friend would master the ability in half the time it took him to learn it.

¤

“Oh well,” Ben sighed when he saw a ghostly Anakin, in his adult version, wander around the camp. “I have a Bad Feeling about this.”

¤

[He spluttered when the scalding hot tea touched his tongue and continued to cough and spit on the ground, even if that was disgraceful.

It was the third time he found sand in his cup of tea and he didn’t understand how it kept being here without him noticing anything!

He threw the cup against the wall where it shattered into tiny bits of porcelain. It didn’t even calm his impotent rage an ounce and he considered calling the guards and tearing them apart bit by little bit to satisfy his hunger for someone to _pay_.

It was a Bad Day.

He prepared tea. Again. And kept both eyes on the cup, all his senses on high alert. When nothing happened, he poured the hot water inside the cup, where the leaves of the tea were already waiting to be soaked. He didn’t wait for the water to cool a bit and took a gulp.

He promptly spat it on the ground.

Fourth time, for Force’s sake, Jedi damned hell!]

¤

“Why are you so cheery this morning, Babini?” grumbled one Asajj Ventress, still half asleep and her face near plunging into her mug of caf.

“Because it is a good morning,” he answered with a wide grin. It became more sinister the longer he kept it on his face. “And because I _hate_ sand!”

She only shook her head and began again to fix the liquid in her mug.

Ben sighed and shook his head, before retaking his datapad, sitting far away enough of all the bustle of the cafeteria that nobody would see him, but close enough for him to observe and hear all there was to know.

¤

Maul hadn’t been too difficult to find. He was on Dathomir, with Savage Opress and one another he didn’t recognize.

“Hello there,” he grinned cheerily at the three zabraks he could see. “Maul, Savage and…?”

“Kenobi!” roared a furious Maul.

“Oh,” he replied. “That’s me that, not him. What is your name, noble zabrak, brother of Maul and Savage?”

“… Feral?” the third and younger answered.

“Shut up!” snarled Maul to the so-called Feral, before turning to Ben, but Ben didn’t move his gaze from the young one.

“Is that a question or is that your name?” he asked gently with a smile.

“Kenobi, you’re mine!” screeched Maul and then, charged him.

Ben evaded each strike of the red lightsaber that Maul tried to throw at him, jumping and pirouetting around, without once taking his own weapon in his hand.

He didn’t come here to fight, after all.

When Maul had exhausted himself, Ben stopped on his two feet, wiped his forehead of the sweat accumulated here and calmly stared at the red-and-black tattooed face of the defeated zabrak.

“Are you done yet?” he asked.

Maul didn’t have enough breath to answer and so, he just glared at the man before him with all the power of a thousand suns.

“I have a _proposition_ for you, my _dear_. Will you let me _propose_?” smiled Ben.

Savage and Feral choked on their breath. Ben’s smile grew mischievous.

¤

(His mug clattered and broke on his clean _carpeted_ floor when his hands shook with the after-effects of his Force-damned cursed headache and the buzzing going off.

He sighed.

Another one to go.

He opened one of his drawers, filled with plain mugs, and took another one.)

¤

The deformed grin on Anakin’s face was terrible indeed.

“I… don’t know what to say,” he managed to say to Ben. “They’re… Well.”

“And remind me, my old Padawan, what were you, hmm?”

“I was a Sith and I’m not anymore! But them… It’s _Maul_! The killer of Qui-Gon and Satine!”

“In one life maybe. Oh, no, he did kill Qui-Gon here too, hmm,” he pondered thoughtfully.  “But Satine is alive still. And they aren’t all bad, you know. They don’t know anything else of this life and the Force. It is time they know something else. You know… I finally killed Maul before dying on the Death Star. It didn’t serve a point, his death. And at the end, he was only too content – maybe glad – to be no more. I say, then, let us grow together and see where the Path may take us. It is time for our Order to grow and us with it and with _them_.”

“… You saw something in your meditations, didn’t you?”

“Hmmm.”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“Hmm hmmm.”

“… fine! It’s not as if we have not the _hairy_ bit—dathomirian, I mean, too.”

Ben clapped him on his shoulder and his smile was as radiant as the combined two suns of Tatooine.

“Thank you, Anakin.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” the ex-Sith Lord muttered under his breath, once Ben was out of earshot.

¤

_I concede that I am with Anakin on this one, Padawan_ , Qui-Gon was saying. _I am not sure I like that my murderer is here with all these people._

“Well, I may have cracked a bit in my solitude on Tatooine, but not to the point that I am completely incapable of feeling compassion for someone who grew up in an environment of Darksiders and Sith Lords,” Ben said sternly.

Qui-Gon bowed his head, somewhat subdued.

_Once again, the student teaches the master. You are a better man than I, Obi-Wan, and a much wiser Jedi than those in the Temple._

“Oh,” Ben replied, startled. He smiled then, a small and genuine one. “I try, Master.”

¤

“My mother is alive.”

Ben stopped pouring his tea in his cup and raised his head to look at a determined Anakin.

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t even attempt to free her?” he began, his glower more and more present on his adolescent face.

The chubby cheeks broke the effect of fear Anakin wanted to make. It made him adorable. Or was it adorkable? He swore he had heard Ahsoka use that term once.

“Hmm.”

“Obi-Wan, my mother is a slave!” Anakin yelled.

“Yes, yes, she and hundreds of others like her.”

That cut Anakin short. Because he knew that voice. That tone. Non-committal. It was his Negotiator tone. He narrowed his eyes at Ben.

“What have you planned, Master?”

“Ah, finally, you are asking the right question.” He finished pouring his tea, took his cup in hand and with the other, indicated Anakin to follow him. “Come, my friend. I will show you something.”

¤

The first response Anakin provided him was laughter. Deep, guttural, from-his-belly laughter. He frowned and crossed his arms. Anakin stopped and stared.

“Oh Force! You’re serious!”

“Yes,” snapped Ben. “Serious and making progress as we speak!”

Anakin gaped. Ben went on with his plan.

“I thought about taking Feral with me. I think he could have a knack with negotiations, if we gave him the opportunity.”

“You don’t negotiate with hutts, Obi-Wan! They’re slimy, disgusting –”

“That is why I will take Feral with me. Maul is too busy preparing his new home and I have Savage keeping an eye on him. And Asajj too. I think she and Savage are becoming fast friends.”

“Hutts, Master!”

“Yes.”

“You want to become their Overlord.”

“Of course not,” he decried promptly as if the idea was ludicrous to him, which it was. Sort of. “To become their Overlord I would have to take Nal Hutta. And Nar Shadda. Hmm.”

“You want to become the Overlord of the scums of the galaxy! Slavers and smugglers and… and… all those slimy _sleemo_ …” Anakin shook his head then his whole body, like throwing off a shiver of dread that had been creeping on his back.

“Well, my old friend, what do you think?”

“I think you’re crazy.” He took a moment to expel a breath. “I think you’re crazy enough to make it work.”

“Ha! That is what I like to hear! You will stay here and oversee the construction effort, will you, please?”

“While you take care of negotiating with the slimy hutts to free the slaves of Tatooine and burn under the two suns? Yes, of course! I will not take one step on that cursed planet. Sand. Everywhere.”

¤

*The trooper made his way to his _vod’e_ , his face blank, until he saw the cloners depart from the room.

“What is it, _vod_?” one of his brother asked him.

“Ben appeared before me and he was really a ghost,” he murmured excitedly. “He was all… blue and transparent!”

“ _Nuhaatyc Manda_ said something to you?” asked another one in awe.

“He asked that we learn to speak huttese.”

A few tense seconds trickled by.

“Huttese?!” exclaimed one of them.

“Hm, something about understanding one’s own troops? I think… we may be brought to fight alongside some people who will understand only huttese.”

“Do you think…” began one _vod_. “He freed us. Sort of. Do you think he could do the same to others like us? I mean slaves.”

A grim look of understanding dawned on the face of the clones.

“That would explain it,” acknowledged the first of the clone, the one who had delivered the news. “The hutts are the more known slavers in the galaxy.”*

¤

He had mixed feeling about Feral. The young one had been equally ferocious and gentle, in negotiations and in battle. Strangely, it reminded him of a young Anakin Skywalker.

He would not say that to Anakin, though.

And when the zabrak had called him “Master!” he had felt the Force sing.

He wasn’t sure to tell Anakin that either.

¤

“I did not mean that when I told you to supervise the settlement, Anakin,” the tone Ben employed was weary and tired.

“Well, what did you mean, then?” Anakin argued. “I made enough droids for _them_ to supervise the construction. I have some other things more important to do.”

“Do you mean when you are annoying Darth Sidious?”

Anakin coughed in his hand and tried his innocent look – which didn’t work, because there was a mean smirk on his lips.

“Yes, Anakin, I know all about it.” He sighed. “Don’t make more waves with him though. We don’t want him to be alerted of our presence.”

“Yes, Obi-Wan.”

“And don’t employ that tone with me! The one that say “I hear you, but I will forget all about it in half a second”!”

“Kark!” Anakin swore. “Since when do you know that one?!”

“Since you first uttered those words. You were nine and my very young Padawan then.”

“Kark!”

“Language, Anakin!”

“ _E chu ta_!”

“Now you’re just being obnoxious.”

¤

[If sand in his cup of tea wasn’t enough, now he found his stash of tea completely mixed. And he was sure some herbs in it weren’t actually tea herbs, because he had to use the fresher after having drunk then. Frequently and extensively. Which was poor form for someone like him.

He had to replace all the droids of his office too, when he had been unable to control his bout of rage and had torn them apart like they were the most insufferable beings in the galaxy.

Which they were.

That was another thing he didn’t understand. Those protocol droids seemed to learn new words each time he saw them. And their behaviour became more and more unbearable.

If he continued like that, he could be obliged to surrender his high position for being responsible for too much money cost to the Republic.

(Which was steadily growing, between the droids and his ships malfunctions.)

That would not do.]

¤


	3. (28 BBY)

¤

**(28 BBY)**

¤

“Hello there! I was looking for you,” Ben smiled at the other man.

The blaster aimed at him didn’t worry him, but the child looking over the cliff and straight into the turbulent waters of the planet… well, that didn’t look too good right now.

“I think your son is going to fall if you don’t go to him,” he tried, not looking away from the eyes of his adversary.

“What?”

That destabilized the man momentarily, as his gaze rapidly shifted to where his son was. Ben didn’t take the moment to disarm the man, even if he could have. Using the worry of a child like that was not is idea of what a good man should do.

“Boba! Come here, son!”

Ben smiled as the child walked to them.

“Good,” he said observing the father/son pair. “I would like a chance to talk with you, Jango Fett.”

¤

(He was Temple bound.

For the last few weeks, he had been Temple bound because of his debilitating headaches and he was the subject of Yoda’s mothering tendencies, which consisted in making him eat swamp stew and drink swamp tea.

It was intolerable; more so when he was confronted by the pitying looks he was receiving from his peers on the Council.

Unbearable.

To pass the time when not writing or reading Council reports, he was seen sparring – read: trampling – with Kenobi in the Salles and yelling after Skywalker, wherever and whenever he saw him do something un-Jedi-like – like blowing up a droid when he was on his way to the Council Chamber.

It strangely helped him manage his moods, if not his headaches.)

¤

“I don’t know if I want to be impressed or worried, Master,” Anakin said, something like _awe_ in his tone. “Your skills in negotiations seem to have vastly improved since last lifetime, because I am nearly sure that here is the Bounty Hunter Jango Fett and he certainly wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t been promised something of value in return.”

“Well, Anakin, why do you think it is my negotiating skills you have to be thankful for and not something else? I just have that effect on people,” Ben grinned in response.

“What? What does _that_ mean?”

“They like my boyish charm and sassy personality.”

“… it’s because you died an old man, with white hairs and enough wrinkles to put Yoda to shame, isn’t it?” Anakin accused. “You’re making up your lost time and flirting everyone into following you!”

“I didn’t say that, Anakin,” he protested. “I am sure it was my arguments about making a better life for little Boba that convinced him to come here and not me batting my eyelashes or showing off my dimples in his direction.”

“Ewww!”

Ben rolled his eyes: Anakin’s mental age wasn’t too different from that of his body sometimes.

They were silent for a few moment, their gazes following a harassed-looking Asajj, who was pursuing a running Boba, with Savage laughing his head off not too far from them.

“And what now?” asked his old friend. “He will stop donating his DNA to the cloners?”

“I hope he will find something more productive to do, yes, but I can’t stop him if he returns there. He is free to go as he pleases, as I am not his warden. But I think he understood well the _slavery of Mandalorians_ he was participating in, when he contributed in giving away his DNA.”

“Oh,” breathed Anakin, with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “You are a cheerfully good manipulator, aren’t you, Obi-Wan?”

“Manipulator, you say?” Ben raised an eyebrow in reply too. “How can I be that when what I did, was only to relay to him the truth of the galaxy?”

The ex-Sith Lord snorted. “That’s why you have that knack at politics and negotiations. I’m just fine with manning a starfighter when the negotiations don’t come through.”

Ben agreed and inclined his head.

“I thought he wasn’t Mandalorian, though,” Anakin said aloud in a thoughtful tone.

“He isn’t,” stated Ben.

“But…” his old friend searched for the right words, eyebrows frowning in concentration. “Why did you bring about the “ _slavery of Mandalorians_ ” then?”

“Because _he_ doesn’t know that _I_ know he isn’t of Mandalorian descent. And he doesn’t like slavery. And he _is_ of Mandalorian legacy, if nothing else.”

“Ah. Negotiations, uh?”

“Indeed,” snarked Ben.

“And what does that mean for the clones?” Anakin questioned.

He let his mind wander for a moment, before answering. “It means there won’t be so many of them. And with the preparations we make, they will have a chance to live their lives as free men.”

“Do you regret that some of the clones we knew won’t be born?”

The silence this time went for a while as Ben looked for an answer that wouldn’t come easily. He finally sighed and crossed his arms.

“Yes, the loss of life is something to mourn, always. It does not mean I will change my decision or the events, however. The fact that they are born in slavery is not something to celebrate, and dismantling an empire of slaves is what I do best.”

Anakin nodded in understanding. He knew that all too well.

Also, Ben was indeed well on his way to becoming the Overlord of a Slave Empire, which would soon enough be dissolved into nothingness if he had anything to say about it. Which he kind of did, as an Overlord and all.

He was glad for Asajj, Feral and Anakin, though: the quantity of paperwork was atrocious.

¤

[The Force felt… greyer, if that was a word he could utilize.

He didn’t like it. It was as if the Force was balancing of a knife’s edge, vibrating, and waiting for something’s to happen.

He was patient, nevertheless. He could continue to be patient for however long he needed to be and for all the plans to finally be put in motions.]

¤

“Do you think I would have made a good Padawan for the Temple, Master?”

He stood still for a few seconds, somewhat surprised by the question.

“Why do you ask, Asajj?” he asked her gently, before sitting next to her on the steps of the broken Temple.

“I just… Is it better to be considered a true Padawan than what I – _we_ – are?”

“Why do you think you are not a “true” Padawan, Asajj?”

“We’re not the Order or even known _to_ the Order, Master,” she replied, sneering a little but without much energy in it, and the expression soon went away.

He put his thoughts in order before replying to her. He needed to be careful and truthful.

“If we call ourselves an Order, then we are an Order. The difference between the Jedi Order of Coruscant and our own is that they are a part of the Republic and work closely with the Senate. We don’t have that restraint, my Padawan. We have our own planet and our own people. They can’t put a stop to us, to something that is not in their mandate or prerogative. As it is, do you really think being a Jedi is about belonging to an organization? No, it is a way of life; it is about the way you want to bring about the future.”

He observed her for a minute.

“Do you want to go to the Temple, Asajj? You could, you know. You could be registered as the Padawan to Master Ky Narec and be chosen by another Master and become the Padawan to someone else then.”

He saw her take in their settlement and the ruins of the ancient Jedi Temple behind them. He saw her looking at the inhabitants, judging their aura in the Force. He saw her witnessing the zabraks brothers, bickering in front of their home, Anakin making another droid explode and Jango and Boba Fett setting up targets for their blaster practice.

“I think I like it here, Master.”

He searched the Force and was glad to know she was entirely truthful.

“Then I am glad,” he answered softly with a smile. “Padawan.”

She beamed at him.

“Now, you will return to the duel,” he said somewhat sternly, rising to his feet. “Begin,” he ordered and the _snap-hiss_ of the two lightsabers in his hands startled her out of her pleasant mood.

She jumped out of the way of his feint, grabbed her own ‘sabers and scowled powerfully at him.

He thought he liked it better when she wasn’t so cheery. Anakin was right when he said it was downright _frightening_ to see this expression on the dathomirian.

¤

<Things tended to disappear these months. Like his datapads, his wines – the good vintages – and even his reasons for _why_ this was a good idea in the first place.

Moreover, since Konstanza, his widower sister-in-law, left Serenno for Alderaan, he was left without anyone to complain to. He hadn't thought he had been thrown so completely off balance, but he had to be sincere with himself, because the results were there. The datapads he presented to his assistants were full of atrocious ideas and they couldn’t show that to the people, or the Council, or even the Senate of the Republic.

Problem was… he was sure he wasn’t the one writing the texts.

For example, he hadn’t been the one writing something like:

> ‘ _In light of the duplicitous nature of the Republic and the Senate, the Confederacy of Independent Systems (CIS) has decided to make its path without the support of the Republic._
> 
> _The members of its Council are all entirely wholesome individuals, who have gained nothing from the separation of the main government of the galaxy, except their freedom, a climbing popularity and a few more trade contracts, which have certainly not made their bank accounts a few credits weightier._
> 
> _It is clear that the main body of the government of the Republic – the Senate – is not fit to be labelled as such, and it is clear that the Council of the CIS will have a better chance at rectifying the corruption found in the Senate, once they have more Systems in their ranks, as they all know entirely too well what corruption looks like._ ’

The sarcasm in the text was all too clear to him and to see irony written down in black letters and to recognize it… He didn’t want to like the writer.

It was unfortunate that he did.>

¤

“What are you trying to do with Dooku?”

“Disassembling his droid army.”

“But with the clones out of the loop, the Separatists won’t make a move, won’t they?”

“… I’m impressed by your naïveté, Anakin. For all that you were a Sith for more than twenty years, you seem to think by black and white only, when there are all shades of greys in-between.”

“You think the droids will attack, even without the clones?”

“What I think is, if I take down one army, I will take down the other one, or we risk annihilation on a galactic scale, without the buffer of soldiers on one side of the maybe-war. I thought about it very carefully, Anakin, and we don’t have a choice in this matter. The GAR will not be if I have a say in the matter, and I won’t let the CIS have an army either.”

“We’ll need more than negotiations and underhanded tactics; you know that, Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, I know. That is why I will let you destroy a droid factory or two.”

“… Really?!” beamed Anakin.

“Really… if you take Asajj with you.”

“… _Shaavit_! I knew it was too good to be true!”

¤

“Palpatine is re-elected this year,” he commented, his tone flat.

“I know,” Ben answered without more inflection.

“Do we have to let him be re-elected?” Anakin whined.

“Hmm. The time to act is not now, I think,” he hummed thoughtfully. “We will need to stop him for the Emergency Powers however, if it comes to that.”

“Without the clones or the droids, do you think it will come to that?”

“The future is uncertain. We are not omniscient, Anakin. We’ll do our best when the timing is right.”

“You mean we will improvise,” chortled the ex-Sith.

“No,” snapped Ben. “We are not improvising. We are _planning_ the unplannable.”

“Improvising,” sing-songed Anakin, while walking away.

Ben sighed.

¤

He had brought Anakin, the rest of his little band of Force-Sensitives (Asajj, Maul, Savage and Feral) and even the Bounty Hunter and his son (“for your protection,” Jango had said, but Ben knew it was to gloat about the demise of the hutts of the planet) with him to Tatooine, this time.

It was going to be a memorable day.

The procession finally stopped in front of the palace of Jabba the hutt, deserted of life, and cheers echoed all around him. The joy and the relief were staggering to sense in the Force, but he stood still and relished in the feelings, eyes closed. He was living in the moment and a smile was on his lips when the soft baritone voice of his Master soon joined the chorus of the inhabitants of the planet in song.

The planet was free.

“How did you manage it, Master?” whispered Anakin, overcome by the powerful emotions in the Force. “How did he just… Why did Jabba just up and leave like that? I thought the negotiations were going rather poorly lastly.”

Should he say it?

“If legends of ghost story in Tatooine start to appear… well, there is a grain of truth to all legends,” Ben finally answered with a serene smile.

_Cheeky_ , muttered Qui-Gon next to him.

_Always, Master_ , he affirmed with cheerful confidence.

¤

[The vibrations of the Force were distracting. There was a new power somewhere in the galaxy and this person was changing things.

The Force wouldn’t let him know if it was a good or bad change for him. Like the Force didn’t entirely know itself.

It was chilling to think that.]

¤

“I didn’t say it, Master, but… Thank you. _Thank you_. For all that you _did_ and all that you _do_ for Tatooine and all the slaves in the galaxy,” Anakin said, his voice trembling slightly with his overwhelmed emotions.

“I can’t save everyone,” Ben smiled to Anakin in understanding. “But I can certainly try.”

Anakin wanted to hug him.

What the vape, he could! And so he did.

Here was Obi-Wan, his Master, Ben, like the Jedi of his dreams, ready to make justice for the people and free slaves wherever he went.

“’Of your dreams’?” laughed Obi-Wan next to his ear when he got out of his near worshipful thoughts.

He freed his Master of his bear hug, while he spluttered.

“That’s not what I meant by that and you know it!” he cried, horrified.

Obi-Wan – Ben! – raised an eyebrow, while the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “Do I?”

“Uurrgh!” he shook his hands above his head. “Forget it, you’re insufferable!”

“Yes, that too,” confirmed his Master with a grin.

¤

“I have with me the list of all Jedi Initiates not chosen to be Padawan. I want you to go and retrieve those that don’t want to stay in the Corps they’ve been assigned to.”

“Why?”

“Because if I can limit the possibilities of acolytes for Sidious and Tyrannus, I will do so.”

“Okay, Master. Anything else you want to add?” he asked sarcastically.

“Take Feral with you. You both are the younger-looking of us and the younger Corps Member will be more inclined to trust someone their own age. If you have problems, contact Asajj. I sent her and Savage on their own mission and me… I will be busy going somewhere with Maul.”

The silence was heavy.

“… Is that a good idea, Obi-Wan? It’s Maul!”

“It is an idea. I don’t know if it is a good one, however.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“Hmm.”

“And what do you intend to do with _him_?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Ben smirked at him.

“Wha – uuhhrrg! No! Do not put images in my head!”

“I didn’t do anything, Anakin. You are the one imagining things I don’t talk about.”

“Don’t _talk_ about…?! Stop it with all the second degree, you’re going to scar me for life and I’ll need acid to wash my brain!”

¤

“What is the most important in the Force and to the Force?” questioned Ben.

“The Force itself.”

“No,” he replied and raised a hand when Maul started to snarl something to this answer. “It is life.”

“And what does that mean? Is it a lesson about how I shouldn’t kill anybody if the Force is all about life?” said the zabrak with a dismissive scoff.

“No, that is not the lesson. What is the most important to a life?”

“To survive?” Maul sent back with vitriol in his tone.

“No, and that is where you have to _understand_ , for once you understand that part, you can begin to heal.”

“Heal! I wouldn’t need to _heal_ if I hadn’t been _cut in kriffing two_!” Maul roared.

“I don’t talk about your body, my friend, but your mind and your life. What is the most important to a life? It is to _live_ ,” Ben said the last word with relish, like a long held secret finally out in the open. “And what is to live?” he continued, merciless. “It is to find your place in the universe, with the Force and with others. And how do you find your place? By finding yourself first.”

He stood then, from his position on his meditative stance on his knees. He held Maul’s gaze in his own for a long time, his face a blank mask, his blue-grey eyes lifeless-like and pitiless, like the cold and crystal caves of Illum.

“We are here so you can find yourself, Maul. Without the added burden of the responsibility of your brothers. Since you came on Tython, they found their path. It is time for you to find your own.”

¤

“… What did you do?!” asked an astonished Anakin.

“Nothing.”

Anakin threw a hand in the direction of the black-and-red tattooed zabrak, calmly meditating. Not like a Jedi, but not like a Sith either, Anakin could feel it in the Force surrounding him.

“That!” he mutely cried, trying his best not to startle the object of their observation. “That is not _nothing_! He’s… changed,” he finished pathetically when he couldn’t find the right word – words were Obi-Wan’s domain after all.

Ben nodded and continued to stare at Maul. “He found his path. I had nothing to do with it. I just pointed to him the way. If he took it, it was all his doing.”

“Would you like my ‘saber in your gut?!” snarled suddenly the zabrak, his gaze zeroing in their direction and pinning them spitefully with his silver – not yellow-red! Anakin couldn’t believe it – iris. “I don’t like being stared at, you sadistic voyeurs!”

“Shame that,” smirked Ben. “But continue, dear! We’re going!”

A soundless yell came from the zabrak, but he didn’t move, while Anakin choked next to Ben.

“Well,” the ex-Sith Lord finally said when he recovered his breath and they had moved away from Maul. “He didn’t change too much, I think. And you!” he pointed a finger at Ben’s chest, reproachfully. “You continue with all this… this… flirting anyone into staying with you!”

“Absolutely not, Anakin,” his Master answered lightly. “Do I flirt with you?”

“What! No!”

“Then, why do you stay, if I was really “flirting anyone into staying with me”?”

“You…!”

Speechless, Anakin stomped off while Ben laughed at his retreating back. His Sith days were over, he would not kill his Master a second time. _He would not_.

¤

Most of the Force-Sensitives in the group were from the AgriCorps, but there were those that were from the other Service Corps too. It would take time and work, but they would all be trained and lived their lives as they all wanted to live it.

But first, he had a question for them.

“I don’t know if you are aware, but we are now a Coalition of Free Planets. Well, we are just two planets in it,” he laughed softly. “But as a Coalition, it is important to send help to our allies when necessary. I will need your help, my friends.”

He took a deep breath and told them the situation.

“Tatooine is a desert planet, with two suns. Nothing there can sustain green life, water is a precious resource in very limited supply and people are killed over it. The population is somewhat lacking in moral compass and a lot of them did not know life other than as slaves. That is why, with the experiences some of you have gained, I ask for your help in finding a solution.”

“What is it exactly that you want?” a young female twi’leck from the group questioned.

“I want Tatooine to rely on itself in the future. I want the planet to have the necessary supply to support itself as a free planet. They have all the meat they want, they have the population, but they lack water and the equipment to grow vegetables. I would like some of you to form a group to think about this and put in place what needs to be done to help our allies of Tatooine.”

“What about the rest of us?” asked the same blue twi’leck, undeniably chosen to be the voice for the rest of them.

He examined them all carefully.

“Because Tatooine is in more immediate need of your expertise, the majority of you, if you are amenable, will work on how to make Tatooine independent. The rest of you, if you are willing, will begin a rotation here on Tython. While I will work with some of you to train you in your Force Powers and Sensitivity, the rest will find work that appeal to them and begin. And then, we will rotate. Everyone will have its chance at being a Jedi, even if it is not with the Coruscant Temple or with the Republic.”

He looked at the mass of them, deliberately did not think about the ton of work it could cause him, and smiled tenderly.

“If being a Jedi is still what you want.”

He knew he had them at that point.

¤

(The report in his hands was about the number of disappearances of Service Corps members. Or, more exactly, the number of voluntary resignation of Corps members.

His headache redoubled and the datapad cracked under the strain of his hands gripping it tightly. The report disappeared when the power in the electronic device failed and he found himself with a pulsing ache behind his eyes.

Force, someone made him a crippled Jedi!

Time to test, again, his Vaapad against Knight Kenobi. Only problem with that solution to his agitation would be seen in the future: he could flatten Obi-Wan, for the moment, but the man became more and more proficient with each spar, more so since he changed his lightsaber style from Ataru to Soresu.

He was afraid he was making a monster in the Salles.

Oh, well. If it was his only solution to his headache, he would take it.)

¤


	4. (27 BBY)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from me! Nevertheless, enjoy reading it, people!

¤

**(27 BBY)**

¤

“Oh, Force…” he muttered before passing a hand over his eyes.

In front of him, Anakin was twitching from one foot to another and waiting impatiently for him to say or _do_ something. He wasn’t sure what he should do, though.

“I… really don’t know what to say about this,” he finally stated, his eyes roving over the dimly lit interior of the ship. “I really thought there was only Anakin and I in this… whatever to the Force _this_ is. Universe. Whatever,” he waved it away with a hand in a dismissive gesture. It wasn’t important for the moment.

There was a _clack_ somewhere on the ship. No. It sounded… just above him! Force! He jumped to the side, trying to dodge, but it was too late.

“Arrogant this is!” _Thwack_. “Thought me dead, you were!” _Thwack_. “Not too old to be put over my knees, you are, Master Kenobi!” _Thwack_.

The last hit of the stick on his head made Anakin fall in a fit of helpless giggles and hiccupping coughs that he tried to hide behind his hands. Trying to regain something of his lost dignity, Ben glared at the miscreant little ex-Sith that had been his Padawan once upon a time, before standing, stiffening his back, or trying to do it with a hanging troll on his shoulders, whacking him on the head.

“Master Yoda,” he implored and tried to make him go, fall, jump, whatever-the-hell, but he wanted him _gone_ from his person, _yesterday_! “Can you _stop_ trying to _brain_ me!” he pleaded-ordered.

The diminutive master harrumphed and jumped on a metal bench, moored to the ship. He then proceeded to cackle in delighted glee when he found proteins bar – military, the disgustingly bland kind – which he made float to him before he began eating them with a ravenous appetite.

Ben stole a glance at Anakin, who just shrugged.

“I found him on Dagobah. I didn’t really know what to do and he didn’t want to _release_ me,” his old friend explained, half amused, half annoyed.

“Make sure, I do, that here, no Vader there is,” Yoda interrupted, his mouth full of the food.

Ben hid a wince at the sight and turned to his ex-Padawan.

“Dagobah?”

“For two years, there I was. Wait for you, Master Kenobi, I did!” Yoda snarked emphatically, while wolfing down the protein bars. “Listened to the Force you did not, or found me you would have!”

“Or maybe I just didn’t want a maddening Yoda to follow me everywhere I went,” he replied in a snide tone.

_Thwack_.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Ben cried and ambled away from the little monster. “Well, we found you, finally, did we not?” he remarked with more scorn that he was used to expressing.

Yoda had had that effect on him for four years of his non-life. He was entitled to some comebacks now and again.

“Young Skywalker did, not you!”

“I was busy!” he argued. “And even then, if you are to live here, how can we introduce you to the rest? All of them _know_ Master Yoda or they know _of_ him.”

“Not a problem that is!” cackled Yoda.

The mad glint in the large eyes of the Master unnerved him.

¤

“I think there is something that is stealing from our reserve, Master,” remarked a young human male to him, one day, when he was making them learn to meditate more deeply in the Force. “I thought…” he trailed off before straightening. “I thought I saw a little… troll or something.”

Ben didn’t facepalm, because Jedi Master did _not_ facepalm, but he came close to it.

¤

“You should take Rattatak in your Coalition,” she said without explanation and out of nowhere.

“That…” he trailed off and looked up to Asajj. “I thought you wanted it to be free to do as they wanted, with whoever you let at the head of the planet.”

She didn’t move, nor shift from her place, but he could sense her underlying anxiety in the Force.

“What is the problem, Padawan, really?”

“… Pirates have begun to raid the planet again.”

“Ah.”

And he supposed that she wanted the planet to be free of the raids, the death and the slavery. How she thought he could offer Rattatak that, he didn’t know. It wasn’t like he had an army. Well, not _really_.

“Tatooine is worse than Rattatak and you won their trust and gain them as allies,” she reminded him.

And what do you answer to that?

“… I’ll see what I can do.”

She did not beam, but it was a near thing, and he was greatly relieved.

¤

“Master,” called one of the young futures Jedi he was training _en masse_.

“Yes?” he answered, stopping his rapid pace towards his office to give his full attention to the young female human.

“I was ordered to tell you that we think there is some sort of beast in the forest at the south of the settlement…” she told him, looking extremely uncertain.

“A beast, really?” he said, surprised, and passed a hand over his bearded chin.

“Well…” she glanced behind her and he saw a group of her friends waiting and nodding to her to go on with her story. “Some think it’s a witch or something like that.”

“A witch?” Ben repeated slowly. He had a mad suspicion about that. “Why do you think it was a witch?”

“Well…” she squared her shoulders and rushed to say the rest. “The beast, it cackled again and again and it was… creepy. _Very_ creepy.”

A being who cackled? Oh yes, Ben had his suspicions confirmed.

“I will take care of it,” he assured her, putting a warm hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “Don’t think any more about it, it will be resolved tonight.”

She accepted that without another word, trusting him to take care of it, then smiled at him and ran back to her friends.

Ben turned his feet towards the south, his lips twitching downwards in a frown.

That little troll!

¤

“Asajj, it’s been nearly six years that you first became my Padawan, correct?”

“Yes, Master,” she replied without looking up from the window overlooking the principal city of Rattatak.

They were in her palace. More like her ex-palace, since it belonged to the new head of state, a frail-looking rattataki. Frail-looking maybe, but the male had a sharp-tongue and a cunning mind. Ben liked him.

“It is time you were made a Knight, don’t you think?”

She turned so rapidly that she nearly fell over, but saved face when she held on to the sofa next to her.

“Knight?” she repeated like it was a word in a foreign language.

“You are ready to be released on this unsuspecting galaxy, my dear. Rattatak is the proof of that or we wouldn’t have a new planet in our Coalition. You have been stubborn and tenacious, but you listened to the Force, to your heart and to your mind. It is important to balance each of these assets we have been gifted with when we were born. You have now learned the most important lesson and it would be my honour to knight you.”

“I…”

“Kneel as a Padawan, Asajj Ventress, and rise as a Knight.”

When the short unofficial ceremony was over, with him promising to her an official ceremony with her friends back on Tython, she stood still for a few moments, before throwing herself to Ben. She hugged him, her eyes shining with tears she refused to let fall. He responded with a warm embrace and a kind smile, his eyes closed in serene contemplation, his mind half here and half in the Force.

“Master Narec is proud to see the person you have become,” he said to her, voice distant. “He says to go see the galaxy and to not stay still on the same planet for ten years ever again. He demands that you let the others see the person he saw when he first took you on as his Padawan and that you continue his teachings and his legacy when you think the time is right to take a Padawan Learner.”

Unexpectedly, she burst into tears.

¤

“We had new arrivals, Master. Some are the families of the new Jedi.”

“… Oh.”

Well, their settlement was expanding at a rate he had not believed to be possible. He couldn’t refuse them, he let Feral have his own family after all. He didn’t really want to separate family members either, even if they were to be Jedi. To have a family was entirely natural and he couldn’t supress that natural expectation, or they would become something non-natural (and would end as his Order had ended). It also gave them the will to fight against injustice and fight for peace, because they knew what they would lose if they did not do it. Plus, being raised by different persons having different point of view would lessen the need for conformism in the rank of his Jedi and then lessen their _racism_ (that Anakin had experienced in their lifetime), even if the Jedi were not aware of it, they bred it in their Coruscant Temple.

It _also_ would be impossible to not have the rumours of Tython spread and he was afraid of who might come.

He wasn’t sure if he preferred the Jedi or the Sith. They were both problematic.

“Thank you for notifying me, Feral.”

It also was a game changer and he had to move up some plans.

¤

(“I’ll go,” he cut through the discussion.

“Are you sure?” asked Plo Koon, his tone calm but worried, his hands crossed and his eyes behind his goggles piercing his very soul.

He was not shifting on his seat, damnit.

“Yes,” he snapped.

“Hmmm,” Yoda was humming beside him. “Something more you have to say, Master Windu,” he stated, his ears vibrating above his head.

He did not dignify that with a response or a death glare. After a few seconds of silence, he forced his teeth apart and nodded.

“Each time the name of that planet is pronounced, my headaches either go away completely or double in intensity. Whatever that is happening with the Force, it originates from there.”

The quiet in the Council Chamber was buzzing with silent conversation from the Councillors.

“We should send a team of Masters,” agreed someone on his right that he couldn’t recognize – because it wasn’t the Chamber that was buzzing, it was his Force-damned mind and he had a cursed headache that was amplifying by the second.

“I’ll go,” he repeated and searched for another name, throwing the first that came to mind. “With Master Koon.”

The vote was unanimous – they all approved – and they would depart on the morrow. With the meeting finally finished, he blindly groped for the pain meds in his belt pouch and took out four at once. He munched on them with the vehemence of a hungry nexu, even if the taste was absolutely disgusting.

Force, let it be the end of his debilitating state!)

¤

When the delegation of the Senate, under the form of two Jedi Masters, came on the planet, Ben didn’t know what to do.

He had ordered Anakin to keep Yoda from interfering, to keep him away and to knock him out, if it came to that – his old friend had looked near euphoric when he had been told he really could do that.

He had butted head with Maul, but had insisted he hid himself to not raise the suspicions of the Jedi, the Sith, the Republic and the Separatists.

Savage, Feral and Asajj were in charge of the young Force-Sensitives. They were asked to not make waves or to disturb him and the delegation when it would be here.

Fortunately, Jango was not here or that could have ended with a fight and a headache.

He didn’t know if he had to reveal himself or send someone else to oversee this meeting.

His Force Signature was different from the one of Obi-Wan Kenobi and he could hide his presence at will, but there were other problems: physically, Obi-Wan and he were of the same age and their same appearances would make the Jedi very distrustful, even with the beard that made him look older – and he was sort of ashamed to force Obi-Wan to shave, but they needed to be recognize for their differences.

He stared at the group he was spying on from his high position on one of the building, when his thoughts stopped distracting him.

It was worse than he had anticipated. They were Masters Mace Windu and Plo Koon.

Kark it all to hell, he had not foreseen that!

“Bring them to the reception hall,” he told in his comm to the person who was leading the two Jedi.

He observed them make the detour to the hall and he furtively followed them. He shook his head: it was like a holodrama with spies.

¤

He made them wait a half-hour before going in the reception hall, trying to blend inside his clothes and cloak.

He had put on his richer ones that made him look like someone with a lot of money – when he had none. He had also put on a pair of glasses that obscured his eyes and would make others avoid looking directly into them – for that meeting, he wanted to circumvent being recognized. On his head, he had put on a fancy hat, which covered his hairs.

The result of this disguise made him look like a wealthy and arrogant politician, which would mitigate the fact that he wanted to hide that he was poorer than a slave – his only real possession was his lightsaber – and not nearly as arrogant as he was trying to portray – a desert would humble even the most desperate case of arrogant berk he had found.

He breathed deeply, took the time to slightly diminish his Force Presence to make him look like barely Sensitive enough to the Force and entered the room.

Time to deal with the past and the future.

¤

“Okay,” he said and fell in his seat behind his desk with a profound exhale. “Damage report, please.”

“The Trollitch is unconscious,” burst Anakin with unholy glee, calling Yoda by the surname that had been floating around the settlement about the Troll/Witch of the forest. “I knocked him out when he started trying to go into the ship of the Jedi.”

Ben sighed, but he had been waiting for something like that and wasn’t really surprised. He turned his gaze to the rest of his apprentices and followers.

“What about the young ones?” he inquired.

“Some of them recognize the Force Signatures of the Jedi Masters,” Asajj informed him. “But they didn’t seem agitated or in a hurry to go to them.”

He nodded. It was good to know. If they had wanted to return with the Jedi, he would have let them go, but it would have put him in the position to answer some uncomfortable questions and he really wasn’t ready for that.

He looked at Savage and Feral and they re-iterated what Asajj had said.

“What about you, Maul? Did they sense you? Did they search for you?”

The zabrak sniffed in disdain and glared at him.

“I know how to stay hidden,” he barked. “And the mayor stayed in public authorised zones when the Jedi took a tour of the settlement with him.”

“Did they ask to look at the ruins of the Temple?”

“They asked to be admitted there when they would return another time,” answered Anakin.

“Which means they intend to return, because they did not find what they were looking for,” he muttered and pinched the bridge of his nose, tired beyond words.

It was the beginning of the political part of this game and he was not _at all_ ready for it.

¤

Their progress with Tatooine was thrilling and Ben was forced to admit that some of the past-Initiates had some great ideas and would have been a gain to the Jedi in his past life. He sometimes wondered what happened to them in his timeline, before shoving that thought forcefully into the nether. It served nothing to dwell on the past and the what-if.

The planet was far from being independent though, but its beginning gave him hope that it would not be too far away.

With some mechanical tinkering and ingenious ideas, they had built solar charger. They were enormous and somewhat like a blotch in the landscape – but with the sand everywhere, it maybe was an improvement – nonetheless they served their purpose grandly and brought energy, in steady and continuous waves, to the nearest underground facility. There, they had brought plants and green life in small quantity, to see what could be made to grow and what wouldn’t survive.

Ben had come with the last ship that was exchanging the people for a new rotation. He would see their progress and take a look at the cities while he was at it.

(There had been reports of unusual activity.)

¤

They were twi’lek. From Ryloth. And they wanted him to come oversee if their planet could come in their Coalition and if he could make it more hospitable like he did for Tatooine.

He gazed blankly back at them.

Force…

¤

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” she said with a smile. “Thank you for standing with us today.”

“No need to thank me,” he answered. “It was a beautiful ceremony. Mrs. Lars,” he smiled as he added the new name she had taken as her own.

She beamed at him, her joy spreading to him in the Force and he thought her happiness made her sunnier than the suns of the planet.

“Thank you, but call me Shmi.”

“Then call me Ben,” he replied. “I hope everything will be alright with all the new responsibilities you and your family have undertaken. If you have a problem, with the new underground level, the solar chargers or anything else, don’t hesitate to send me a message.”

“I will,” she answered serenely. “Come,” she then ordered calmly. “It is not the time to talk business; it is time to celebrate my new union with my husband. We have alcohol.”

“Oh, good,” he laughed. “Alcohol to be more dehydrated than usual, as if it wasn’t already enough with the two suns and the sand and the temperature and –”

She gently slapped his arms.

“Sarcasm will get you nowhere.”

He grinned and let her lead him to where the others guests were mingling together.

¤

“You need a droid to assist you in your paperwork,” Anakin said to him without a hello.

He was taking his breakfast and drinking his tea and he already saw a headache looming in his near-future.

“I don’t need one.”

“Tough,” his old friend cried, like the dramatic diva that he really was. “Because I made you one.”

A white protocol droid, with orange and gold designs, entered his office and if he didn’t know better, he would have said the droid looked painfully shy.

¤

“All these desert planets look alike,” Feral muttered next to him.

“Tatooine has an atmosphere that is more dangerous, but Ryloth has wildlife and animal inhabitants that are more savages. Each has their burdens to bear.”

“I don’t understand how only desert planets want to enter the Coalition,” the young zabrak continued with a slight pout. “We could bring something to others too.”

Ben gently shook his head. “No. We are a Coalition of Free Planets. We bring about the independence of our ally and not anything else. It is for _this_ reason the planets the poorer will want our help. These unfortunate planets are generally the desert ones, because it is really difficult to live on one.”

“But what if they re-join the Coalition and when they are independent, they leave?” questioned Feral.

“The Coalition is not here for the Planets to stay in it if they don’t want to. We are ally only, we do not belong to the same government, and we do not create laws for the whole of them, not like in the Republic. Do you understand?” he inquired softly to his Padawan.

“I think so,” he answered, a frown between his eyes. “That is why we negotiate terms and all, for when they enter the coalition and for when they quit it.”

“Yes,” Ben grinned. “Exactly. What they bring into our alliance and what we bring to them, it all needs to be balanced for everyone to be happy.” He looked at the young zabrak. “You know… I think you could make a great negotiator one day, Padawan, if you continue to apply to that part of your apprenticeship.”

Feral was silent for a moment, musing about it.

“I think I’d like that,” he finally responded with a grin.

Ben saw the path for Feral solidify and he smiled.

Asajj had found her path, Feral had finally found his own and Anakin… well, Anakin was Anakin. He let him go wherever he wanted and just hoped the galaxy would still be standing when he returned to the security and peace of Tython (well, he does have to give credit where credit was due: Anakin, working with Jango, had saved Coruscant from destruction and Jedi Master Yarael Poof from sacrificing himself, last he heard from his wayward ex-Padawan).

¤

“Kamino sent a message.”

His hand stopped over the datapad he was going to pick up.

“Can you repeat that, please?” he said in a careful tone.

“Kamino sent a message.”

“Yes, that is what I thought I heard. What about Kamino?”

The droid ADAW (‘Assistant Droid of Administrative Work’; it was Anakin that named him, Ben recalled, and the ex-Sith had taken to name it “Ade” or “Aid” because he was thinking himself positively sly even when Ben told him he had all the subtlety of a rampaging gundark) shuffled, like he was uncertain about the new charged atmosphere in the room.

“The Prime Minister would like a meeting with you if you are amenable.”

“… How does he now of my existence?”

“He said to tell you that he would like a real meeting and not a “ghostly one”.”

“Yes, that is what I was afraid of,” Ben muttered to himself.

¤

“Master, the Trollitch is sending worms our way. I don’t know why, but… I think he’s trying to be useful. Me and my friends, we talked about going fishing, but we have not the material for it, and then, suddenly and out of nowhere, there were worms falling from the sky and on us!”

“Oh, well,” Ben stated and sighed. “Maybe you should thank him by letting some protein bars somewhere, he will like that. To have an ally, even if it is the _Trollitch_ ,” the name sounded distasteful on his tongue, but to keep up appearances, he would keep using it. “It is always benefitting to be nice and thank the ally for each gesture. Even if it is not to _your_ taste. Maybe it is to him.”

How he could turn Yoda throwing worms into a lesson about ally and negotiations, he sometimes wondered.

¤

*”I think they saw us talking about you, but they never even asked questions or anything.”

“And now, they want to meet with me,” he sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Ben,” began the clone in front of him. “Maybe it could be the beginning of negotiations towards our freedom?”

He stared at the man in front of him. He knew who that trooper was, but he refused to call the clones by name while they were still on Kamino. It was his technique to make them hyper-aware of their limited freedom, even concerning their own ‘designation’. It was somewhat deceitful, but he hoped that by making them realise their own slavery this quickly, they would take to their approaching freedoms with both hands and not release it for the whims of anybody.

“Maybe,” Ben answered, non-committal. “Maybe you are right. There has to be consequences with their Sith client, because they can’t continue to produce other batches, even if they are receiving money for it.”

“Will you come help us? Help them?”

“I will.”*

¤

Tython was prospering.

The settlement had become a little city and whoever the architects were, he was glad they had respected his need for greenery everywhere.

Each house had a garden, for the occupants to do as they pleased, and there were parks and fountains and green alleys everywhere he looked.

The city was alight with the Living Force, like a pulsating heart that gave its energy to every lives living here. He could sense the peace wafting from below like never before.

He was glad to see his – and that of his followers – efforts finally achieving something good.

¤

“I can’t even…” Anakin was saying, pacing his office, and then trailed off.

“Yes?” Ben inquired, raising his head from the report about Ryloth he was reading.

“How could you ally yourself to the cloners!” his old friend finally burst out angrily.

Ben put down the report and observed the ex-Sith Lord.

“What is it that manages to rattle you with this alliance, old friend?” he asked quietly.

“They are slavers!”

Ben pondered a moment.

“From their point of view, they are nothing more than people doing business. From our point of view, yes.”

“And you accept that!” yelled his old Padawan.

“Absolutely not,” he said sharply. “They don’t know anything else, Anakin. The kaminoans do not stray far in the galaxy and do not understand the situation. I am making them aware of it. It is only by learning, that you can understand and then advance.”

“Is that why there is that _kaminoan_ here?”

Ben inclined his head. “Yes. Ava Sen is here to observe and report back to his superiors. He will stay a matter of weeks. I hope we can come to an understanding and maybe… Maybe we could begin the transfer of the clones to Tython after that. With the help of the kaminoans, we could even prevent the Sith from knowing exactly what we are doing.”

He looked Anakin in the eyes when he continued.

“More than that, as they are about business before all, I think we could negotiate a trade agreement between them and the desert planets we have as allies. They are an amphibian species from a planet covered in water. They could try their mind to resolve the problem of water in a desert. Like that, we have them occupied with a scientific problem, we have no more batches of clones, the clones themselves will be freed and we could avoid the attention of the Separatists and the Sith for the moment by feeding them false reports that could be made to our advantages. The habitants of Tatooine, Ryloth and Rattatak could participate in this venture and they would find themselves useful for once in their life, searching a solution for their own planet. Their willing participation in that will reinforce their independency and will make them stronger as allies.”

He stopped there, taking a breath.

“What do you think?”

“Oh,” Anakin exhaled. “Once again, Master, you have managed to think about different outcomes when I couldn’t even put my mind past my hatred for _slavers_.” The last word was spat.

“That is why I do the negotiations, Anakin, and you do the grunt work,” Ben replied with a haughty air.

Anakin threw a datapad at his head and stormed off. But Ben knew he was not concerned anymore, if he had to judge by the smile on his old friend’s face.

¤

The Republic was back and this time, there were Senators, Jedi and _the Sith_. Commonly known as the Chancellor of the Galactic Republic, Sheev Palpatine.

Ben knew the end of the week would not come soon enough.

He could already feel Anakin’s emotions boiling over and the delegation from the Republic had not even disembarked from their ship yet.

Time for some head butting.

¤

Having had the Republic on Tython, he was waiting for the other _big player_ to drop by. He couldn’t wait to see Dooku or one of the Council of the CIS.

¤

“Trying to bring back my old apprentice from the Dark Side, you are,” Yoda the Trollitch accused him one night when he was preparing himself a cup of tea.

He didn’t respond, but readied a second cup and put it on the table, in front of the old Master.

“Dooku is not so far away into the Dark than some, I think. He’s just… disillusioned by all organizations he belonged too since he was young, and desperate to find a valid and honourable purpose over which he can fight. He has been played by Sidious since the beginning and because of that, he has lost the better part of himself: his mind.”

“Hmm,” hummed Yoda, all the while putting a claw in his tea and letting it there.

Ben had stopped a long time ago questioning the habitudes of the diminutive Master, more so since the troll had become a little _unhinged_ after his exile on Dagobah.

Well, he couldn’t really talk, could he? His stay on Tatooine as a hermit and a desert wizard had certainly not made him look sane to a lot of people.

The two Masters took their tea and let the silence fill the space comfortably between them. There was no need for words when they could understand each other pretty decently without muttering one. They were more alike now, than ever before: hermit to another hermit, a time traveller to another time traveller, a failed Jedi Master to another failed Jedi Master. But then again, it was the last one that was the more important and that defined some of their mad-like behaviour: one of the last of the Jedi to another one of the last of the Jedi.

To be the last two of an entire culture… It had forced them to reconsider a lot of things. It had made them open entirely to the Force – and the whims of the universe.

It had made them very powerful and also very foolish about some things.

Ben supposed it made Yoda want to have Dooku next to him again and made him hope that not all was lost with the old human. Anakin had been saved, after all, and his own Padawan had lived more than twenty years as a Sith.

Maybe Yoda would do something about it too, about Dooku.

It did not make Ben worried. _Not at all_.

¤

Everything was going to political hell in a hand basket since their ‘discovery’ by the Republic and the intervention of the Jedi and the Senate. He had to put aside his distaste for such a thing and begin damage control.

He had to improvise.

Anakin was going to laugh at him until he choked to death.

¤


	5. (27 BBY, part II)

¤

**(27 BBY, part II)**

¤

(“They’re hiding something,” he told the rest of the Masters after they had all taken their seat in the Council Chamber.

“I sensed something was amiss too,” confirmed Plo Koon, nodding once. “Their intentions are… indecipherable. If I couldn’t feel the Force Aura of the Ambassador we met, I would have said he was shielding his true intentions, but the man is barely Sensitive enough to be aware of other Force-Sensitives.”

“He _was_ hiding something,” he stated, somewhat emphatically, and really sure of himself even without the Force to confirm it for him or without a proof of his certainty.

He was maybe letting a bit more of his frustrations show to the others than he wanted by being this expressive, but he couldn’t scratch that sudden itch in his instinct that told him something was definitely amiss with Tython and its new inhabitants.

That the lot of them weren’t Jedi and that they colonised the birth planet of their Order, just was the muja on top of the cake, wasn’t it?

“An idea you have, Master Windu, hmmm?” inquired Yoda, turning his large piercing eyes on him.

“We could send a team there, under the pretext to study the ancient Jedi Temple. It is not out of our prerogatives. Archivists could be sent there and we could rotate the Masters that would supervise them.”

“If we do this, it opens the door for the Senate to send more envoys to them and they didn’t seem very agreeable to the Republic,” argued Plo Koon.

He snorted in hurt disdain, that made his head throbbed painfully. “Nor to the Jedi.”

“It is their rights to refuse our entry on the planet they now call their own,” Ki-Adi Mundi reminded them. “The Jedi and the Republic.”

“Even if we suggest it is for our personal history?” wondered Eeth Koth.

“But…” he announced slowly but vehemently, hit by a sudden bout of insight, interrupting the on-going discussion. “If they refuse our entry, that would make them suspicious and the Senate will not stand for that. Tython is in the core, too near Coruscant. If they are acting suspicious, the Senators will be fearful of a nefarious plot in the making and will make their lives harder and it could cause some difficulties for them along the way. And they know that. And so, they won’t refuse our request to post a team of Jedi.”

“Sure, you seem to be,” Yoda stated.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

The Grandmaster of the Order hummed and searched an answer in the Force, eyes half closed in a meditative trance.

“Send archivists and a Master, we should. The idea of Master Windu, it is. First in line for the team sent there, he is,” cackled Yoda. “Prepare for a long stay, you should, Master Windu, and prepare a team, you should also.”

His headache turned to a full-blown roar between his ears and he gritted his teeth to keep from yelling in pain and outrage.

Well, he asked for it, didn’t he?)

¤

“The Jedi request to be authorized on the planet,” Mayor Ren Shakaa, the mayor that had been elected to be at the head of civil matters in their little city, was saying to him, his face grave. “They want to study the Temple.”

“Of course, they request that,” scoffed Ben. “But it is not to study the Temple, it is to spy on us. They are unsure about what we are, where we come from and where we will go from there.”

“Will we let them then?” Ren asked, sounding a little anxious himself about it.

Ben knew the story of Ren Shakaa. He was an exiled Lord of a prosperous planet in the mid-rim, ousted from his home and planet by his own people, because of the greed of his cousin, who had turned them against him. When Ben had met Ren, he had seen himself in the eyes of the human. That was how they became friends and Ren became one of his followers – even if ‘followers’ was –

(a distasteful word, he was not the leader of a cult, for Force’s sake)

– not too exact anymore with them now maintaining a sedentary lifestyle on Tython.

Ren was afraid to be made to leave and to return to a life of no-home, roaming the poorer parts of the planets and the city with no friends and no future.

But Ben didn’t have a choice in this matter.

If they refused Jedi intervention, the Senate would not be happy, would even be fearful – a fear neatly cultivated by the Chancellor of course – and would force their own will on them. But maybe… Maybe it was better to let the Republic know they preferred Senators to Jedi?

(He could hide his Force abilities the easiest with them, more so than with Jedi, with whom it would be a constant necessity to do so and not be so relaxed anymore.)

Only problem with that, was they didn’t want to enter the Republic, so Senators were out of the questions; and the only ruins interesting enough to study on the planet were ancient Jedi buildings and Temples and the Jedi Order had the legal rights to study them.

He really didn’t have a choice.

He rubbed his eyes and his temples, needing to rid himself of the developing migraine he felt coming at the velocity of a podracer. If he was not already turning grey, he would soon enough, he thought ruefully. So much for enjoying his young age again.

“When do they want to come here?”

“In a month’s time.”

Oh, they didn’t lose time, did they? He was _so_ not ready for them. He had to determine what to do in the meantime, for when they would be here.

“Master Kenobi,” Aid cried for him, entering his office in a tangle of electronic limbs. “Master Kenobi! A Count Dooku is on the comm and wants to have a word with you!”

Ben closed his eyes, sighed and let this head fall on the back of his chair.

Ren was laughing quietly from his own chair, on the opposite side of the desk.

“It seems you can’t have a break, can you, Ambassador Kenobi?” the Mayor, mockingly but gently, said.

Oh, right, he had forgotten people called him that now. Another title for his growing collection. Though, he largely preferred that to the General he had been in another time.

When he straightened from his defeated position, he was back to being a Jedi Master, stoic and not moved by anything or anyone.

“Aid, call back all my apprentices, please. I don’t care where in the galaxy they are, I want them here with me to take care of these new problems as they crop up,” he ordered calmly, before turning his head to Ren. “Mayor, accept the Jedi in a month’s time and see if we can renovate some rooms in the Temple for them. If I can ‘ _spare them the necessity to walk back and forth between the settlement and the ruins, we will do so_ ’. Tell them something like that if they ask, but really, it’s because I don’t want them near us every time.”

“Yes, Master Kenobi,” answered Aid.

“Of course, Ambassador Kenobi,” Ren accepted with a courtly nod of the head.

He rose from his sitting position.

“And me…” he inhaled and exhaled deeply. “I will see to Count Dooku. If something important comes up, I will be in the comm room. But interrupt me only if it’s a life or death problem.”

He was out the door and marching down to the comm room, when he remembered something else important. He returned to his office, where Aid and Ren where still standing.

“And if you see or hear the _Trollitch_ , tell him not to be a busybody today. If he respects that, convey to him that I will make him swamp stew.” He smiled at them. “Thank you.” And was gone.

¤

He made Dooku wait.

First, because he could.

And second, because he had to appear important and imposing as a figurehead of a new colonised planet (and he had to change his clothes for that).

“ _Ambassador Kenobi_ ,” acknowledged Dooku in his smooth baritone voice.

“Count Dooku,” he replied, neutrally.

“ _Any relation to an Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight?_ ” was the first question asked.

(Ben knew Dooku was really interested to know the answer, because Obi-Wan Kenobi was the Count’s grandpadawan.)

“None,” Ben answered easily. “Any relation to Konstanza and Adan Dooku?”

“ _Not anymore_ ,” replied the Sith.

“Shame that,” Ben continued in a perfectly neutral tone, which could sometimes be considered somewhat condescending and plenty irritating. “As I heard, Konstanza Dooku was very good at being a regent of Serenno.”

(First step in his plan: make Dooku see what he had lost by being a bit of an egomaniac bantha with the same brain capacity as the animal.)

“ _For a non-changeable Republic, maybe_ ,” countered Dooku. “ _And as the time changes, we must change with it, or be at the mercy of those that accept these changes and worse, those that do not._ ”

“Of course,” Ben acknowledged with a nod. “But then, change can be subjective. Change for what? What do we want for the future? Do we want a return to a civilisation with less technology? Do we want a galaxy where there are no social norms anymore? Or one where there is an ultimate hierarchy, here for the benefits of all, but where the civilian lambda has no choice but to obey or meet his end, because ‘ _it is for his own good_ ’?”

(Second step in his plan: make him realise the holes in this mad ambition of his. Trying to make him think, when Sidious and the Dark had him at their mercy, was going to be difficult. But if his theory of Dooku not being so far away in the Dark Side was true, then, there might be hope yet and sometimes, hope was the only thing that kept him going. He just had to think about Luke, to be reminded of that.)

“ _There is wisdom in knowing when to fight and when to retreat for the betterment of everyone involved_ ,” the Count disputed, as one of his eyebrow rose on his forehead. (Ben wanted to call that gesture sarcastic.)

“Yes,” he said and let a few seconds passed, the rest of his sentence hanging there, on the tip of his tongue. “If one consider himself, or herself, a great entity that is both neutral and omniscient.”

(Third step of his plan: compare him to a god, or the Force, and show him what a conceited berk he was.)

The silence was ringing in his ear and the Count did not respond but stared at him, judging him and trying to see what was in his head.

“ _I would like to meet with you, Ambassador._ ”

Oh. Well, he had won the interest of Dooku.

“It would be my pleasure, Count,” he replied with a political smile – one that was a touch bland, a touch condescending and a touch interested.

¤

He was on a tight schedule. It seemed like all his problems and their solutions came all crashing down on him in a matter of a few weeks, when he had been there for the better part of six years. He had the impression of the time accelerating and he didn’t like that he had to sort of improvise for this new timetable.

First, he let one week for his apprentices and companions to return from wherever they were. He would need to find them their occupation once they set foot on Tython.

Then, Dooku would be arriving to discuss whatever the Count-turned-Sith wanted to discuss. Ben hoped he wouldn’t want access to the Jedi Temple either, because it would soon be in rapid renovation for the arrival of the Jedi, and all of his Force-teaching items would need to be removed from there to another place, where he would be able to continue his classes.

After that, he should hear from the kaminoans. It would complicate matters if they agreed to the terms of the negotiations, because the transfers of the clones to Tython would make their future Jedi guests extremely suspicious. He would need to see how to resolve that. Maybe he would put Anakin to that problem, as he already knew – from a previous life – the clones that would arrive. It would also make him scarce when Dooku and the Jedi arrived on planet. Ben would ask Jango to assist Anakin with that. The Bounty Hunter liked his clones and adored making them learn about Mandalorian culture. Yes, that would make Anakin _and_ Jango occupied.

Next were the Jedi. They would arrive in a month and they would be a team. How many of them there would be, he didn’t know, but their configuration – if there were Masters, Archivists or Sentinel or whatever else – would tell him what to be wary about and about the concerns the Jedi had about him and Tython. It was fortunate that he understood the inside work of the Council, having been a Councillor himself.

Well… Time to get to work, then.

For all of this, he would have to hope for the best, but plan for the worst. Like always.

(Anakin would be in their midst at the time, so it was better to plan for the worst.)

¤

“You’re a little green today, Master,” remarked Anakin when he disembarked from his ship, even before greeting him. “Are you okay?”

“I was forced to make swamp stew since the beginning of the week, what do you think?” he snapped irately back at his ex-Padawan.

He saw the wince on Anakin’s face and the disgust he felt colored even his Force Aura.

“Yes, exactly,” continued Ben. “And let me tell you that having lived more than twenty years in a swamp didn’t arrange for the better the taste of the… _Trollitch_.”

(Yes, he did have some problems with calling Yoda like that. He found it disrespectful. Even if that surname rang true and Yoda acted more like a _Troll_ and a _Witch_ , than a revered Jedi Master. It was like himself: being called Mad Wizard Ben wasn’t his idea of a title he liked to parade. Even if he was mad, a being with powers and was called Ben.)

He would let the responsibility of taking care of Yoda and his meals to Anakin if he had anything to say about it. His old friend seemed to find some sort of catharsis in Yoda-sitting. Maybe it was the thought that he could knock the Master out. Or maybe it was something else he hadn’t thought about and would give him shiver of dread if he knew about it. Like the two terrors that they were making plans he wasn’t a part of.

Oh, a shudder…

Bad Feeling alright!

He would have to go to the bottom of this problem, when he would have the time and not when he had some other pressing issues to take care of before.

(One down, five to go.)

¤

“We accept the terms of the negotiations, but want to add something.”

“Alright, then. What is it?”

“Nothing in the contract with the client is against letting the clones go. Our employment was to grow them and ready them for military actions and war, so even if the clones go to Tython, it is not against the contract of our people, as the clones will be armed and ready nonetheless. You will make sure of that, or so you claimed, by your terms of the negotiations.”

Ben nodded in confirmation, eyes intent on his interlocutor, none other than the kaminoan Ava Sen.

The kaminoan had declared his willingness to stay on Tython to his superiors – and to Ben – and to be an emissary for his home planet. Ben knew it was because Ava Sen secretly enjoyed the novelty of a life not on a planet always underwater like Kamino. He also thought that this kaminoan was making friends on Tython. It had to change his habitudes and got him out of his comfort zones, but Ava seemed to thrive on it. Ben had heard positive reports from the Jedi Healers and the scientists about him.

“But…?” he demanded without words to hear about the subsequent problem he knew was coming.

“But… we are afraid of the reactions of the client if he were to discover our somewhat treacherous behaviour. We want to be protected at all times.”

“Hmm,” Ben turned his thoughts inwards while stroking his beard. “That will not be a problem, I should think.”

It wasn’t as if he could arrange for the transfer of the clones when count Dooku would be arriving some times in the next week. He would selection volunteers to guard the cloners and write a rotation so that the clones would never have to stay too much time with their creators/slavers. He could even send one of the older youngling Jedi he was training, to give them some experience outside of Tython. He also knew he could trust the clones and the apprentice to take care of each other’s if there was a problem.

(Not that he thought there would be one. Or he hoped not. And he hoped the clones and the young apprentices would have the presence of mind to call him for help and then, run the hell away.)

¤

“You said in your last report that there were unusual activities with the Cartel of the Hutts?” he quietly queried to Asajj.

As the new Knight that she now was, he had let her go where she thought she needed to go. She had chosen Nal Hutta and Nar Shadda as her first solo mission. He hadn’t asked why, but maybe he ought to have done so.

“Yes,” she nodded. “I was right to keep an eye on the disgusting _worms_ ,” she sneered just at the thought of them. “They are organising something.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “And why is that my problem?”

“Because it’s _against_ _you_ ,” she forcefully said to him, her tone raised a little.

He detected worry and anger in the Force coming from her.

“And they are organising what?” he ruefully laughed. “An army? Against one man?”

“Yes,” she replied flatly, but with narrowed eyes.

That silenced him and he looked both flustered and nonplussed.

“Oh.”

He hadn’t seen that one coming.

“Well… keep an eye on them and on Tatooine, then, please? If they want to strike back at me, they will begin by the planet they recently lost.”

(Two down, four to go.)

¤

“Since you first set foot on the planet, you have greatly changed, Savage,” Ben told the zabrak with a gentle smile. “I am proud to see that. All three of you have finally found your place.”

“Yes,” replied the zabrak quietly. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Ah, straightforward it is then,” Ben mused. “You know we are constructing new buildings some way from here.”

“Yes. What about them?”

“One of them is going to be the first building of a complex, destined to be for the Jedi, our own Order. A place for us to go and just _be_. This first building will be a school, a crèche, a place for orphans to go when they have nowhere else to go.”

He looked up from the window of his office where he could see the site of the construction he was talking about, far away in the distance.

“You have shown great abilities with the young ones, even found some of the Force-Sensitives ones we have taken under our wings, and so, I would like your thoughts about becoming one of the Crèche Masters.”

Savage had to blink many times after that and Ben laughed to himself when he saw the shock spreading on the face of the zabrak.

“You would let me, a known ex-Darksider, with so many young ones, _your_ future generation of Jedi?” Savage asked.

“Yes,” confirmed Ben. “Do you feel yourself able and ready to undertake such a responsibility? It is a lot of work, I must warn you. Young ones are capable of such chaos, but they are bright lights in the Force and we will cultivate that light and make them ready to face the outside world. I think…” he continued, with a more thoughtful, but also sharper, tone. “I think you could do a lot of great things with them. You would let them know the chaos they are causing is not bad and they will grow in it, around it, because of it and thanks to that, they will stay true to themselves while growing up. That will prove beneficial to them when they are confronted to the harsh realities of the galaxy. They will strive for something more, even when thrown in the dangers we are surrounded by.”

“Wouldn’t _you_ be better than me, though?” the zabrak tested.

“No,” Ben shook his head. “I don’t have the patience anymore for younglings, when my days are spent trying to placate Senators, Politicians and Jedi alike, who are all thinking themselves adults, when they are just overgrown infants,” he replied more severely than he intended.

He raised a hand and rubbed his temple with the other.

“My apologies,” he excused himself to Savage. “My days are a bit stressful right now.”

‘ _Stressful’_ was not the word he wanted to say, nor was ‘ _days’_ , but he would not let himself appear more affected than that before the zabrak.

“What do you say about my proposition, Savage?”

“I accept,” he answered with a face so serious and a tone so severe, that Ben was afraid the zabrak had accepted only because he thought he had no other options.

He was relieved to be proven wrong, when he became the receptacle of a solid hug by the zabrak. All he could do was accept the hug – because he was not insensitive to the honour it was – and hummed softly.

He hoped nobody was witnessing them or Maul would have his head on a pike for ‘ _trying to steal his brother from him_ ’.

(Three down, three to go.)

¤

“You want me to babysit my clones?” asked the Bounty Hunter, an eyebrow raised on his forehead. “Aren’t you scared I will corrupt them or something, Jedi?”

“No, I am not,” answered Ben. “Why would I be? You were training them before I brought you here. And why would you be corrupting them if they are to live with us, on the same planet, even in the same city?”

Jango shrugged his shoulders and returned to his blasters he was taking apart and thoroughly cleaning. Ben observed him do his work quietly, while he sipped his tea.

“I asked Ani to keep an eye on the _Trollitch_ , but he will meet with the clones too, when they arrive. With you two, I hope we can prevent someone from discovering them too soon and keep them still for a time.”

That gave Jango a pause and he stilled suddenly. Eyes narrowed, but face stoic, he stared unblinkingly at Ben.

“ _’Someone’_?” the man repeated.

Ben sighed and put his tea on the table.

“Dooku is coming here in a few days,” he announced.

There was only a minute flinching of the Bounty Hunter. If Ben hadn’t been searching for any tell-tale signs of discomfort, he would not have noticed it.

“It is the reason I’d like for you to go with Ani and stay with the clones. Stay on the planet, but make it far enough away that Dooku won’t sense you or the clones.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, _Jetii_ ,” Jango said softly to him. “Tyrannus is not someone to take for a fool.”

“No,” Ben cuttingly replied. “He _is_ a fool. I knew of him, of his reputation, before he became Tyrannus. He is what he wanted to eradicate from the galaxy. He is corrupt, a Sith and has lost his damn mind! He was honourable, a Jedi and his mind was his best asset, until he fell under the greedy and poisonous fingers of Sidious!”

Jango raised an eyebrow at this non-characteristic outburst of him. He exhaled and fell bonelessly back in his chair.

“I am trying to give him the chance to come back to us,” he finally said, after having taken a sip of his now-lukewarm beverage.

Jango laughed.

“What is that you’re sprouting off?” he snorted. “You’re a hopeless optimist, aren’t you, Jedi? Re-convert Tyrannus!”

Ben crossed his arms, raised his eyebrows and fixed Jango with an unwavering stare. The Bounty Hunter calmed down and frowned back.

“What?” he barked.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Ben remarked.

That made Jango stop talking.

(Four down, two to go.)

¤

“I heard that Savage accepted his new occupation as a Crèche Master,” was what Feral said to him one day when they were working on the finer points of the treaty with Ryloth. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me? You have no reason to thank me, Padawan,” Ben easily replied with a small smile. “I didn’t do anything.”

“But you did,” the young zabrak refuted. “I… I had a dream, you know.”

That made Ben pause in his reading and look at his apprentice.

“What about?” he asked.

“If you hadn’t been there to help us, to _save_ us, I would be dead within a few years!” Feral burst out rapidly.

“Oh?” he replied softly, because he didn’t know what else to say.

“Yes,” his Padawan continued. He was agitated, like he had kept that secret for a long time and was now finally relieved to talk about it. “I dreamt that Savage killed me and that it was Asajj that asked him to do it. It was…” he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “It was a nightmare. Savage wasn’t who he is now, I didn’t even recognize him.”

Oh.

Ben was afraid that what Feral dreamt about, was what came to pass in his own timeline. It explained why he had never heard of Feral before meeting him in this time and new universe.

Well, he was glad to see the changes he made, was to make life better for some of the people.

“You’re welcome then,” he smiled at Feral and his Padawan smiled back, happy to be alive and finally free of haunting dreams.

It was beautiful to be the witness to such a change from his past life. And so awe-inspiring to see what his humble days from today had made him gain, when his arrogant days as a Jedi had only brought about the Fall of Anakin, the birth of Vader and the terror of the galaxy for more than twenty years.

“Could you assist your brother with the young ones, though?” he inquired. “I’ll be otherwise occupied with the political consequences of our discovery by the Republic for the next few weeks and I need you to keep away from their prying eyes.”

“Of course, Master,” Feral accepted without an ounce of hesitation in his tone.

It made Ben want to cry for lost possibilities in his own past, to see such open trust, before he shoved that thought in the nether and began again his reading.

(Five down, one to go.)

¤

“Ambassador Kenobi,” Count Dooku greeted him with a courtly nod of the head.

“Count Dooku,” Ben replied with the same gesture.

Once the courtesies were exchanged and they were inside the guests quarters, that Dooku would use while on the planet, they began a polite discussion.

“You have done remarkable work on the planet,” were the first word the Sith said. “Did you know it was once the planet of the Jedi?”

“Oh yes,” Ben answered. “Difficult to not know this when there is the ruins of a Temple not far from here.”

“Yes,” Dooku was looking rather thoughtful. “Could you be interested in giving me a tour of the place?”

Ben had been waiting for that question. “I’m afraid to say the place is under restoration for the moment. However, in the future, don’t hesitate to come back to see it.”

“I see. And I will.”

The chime of his personal comm cut through the silence that had begun to settle between them. When he looked at it, he sighed.

“You’ll have to excuse me,” he said to the Count while he rose from the sofa. “An important matter that demands my immediate attention. If you agree to it, we could reconvene this discussion to tonight, with a meal?”

“I accept,” approved Dooku.

“If you have need of something, don’t hesitate to ask,” finally said Ben, before going out.

¤

“What is it, Anakin?” he asked.

“Yoda knows Dooku is here and he’s planning something,” was the hushed answer he got back.

Oh, good, things could never go as he wanted them to go, could they? He tiredly rubbed his temples and tugged his beard in a frustrated movement.

“If I get to keep an eye on Yoda, you get to keep an eye on Dooku,” Anakin said to him. “The Sith is here to talk to you anyway. Keep him close at all times. It will be fun, I’m sure, you’re like a magnet to Sith and Darksiders and they can’t help but like you. That’s why they want you dead but never achieve it.”

“Oh good, that is so reassuring. And might I remind you that you were the one to kill me?”

The ex-Sith Lord pouted. “You let yourself be killed,” he whined.

Ben just shook his head. It was going to be a long week.

¤

“’ _It will be fun_ ,’ he said! ‘ _They can’t help but like you_ ,’ he said!”

He fell on his bed, groaned in exhaustion, and began a session of self-pitying.

“And I can’t help but like them too,” he despaired.

Anakin, Asajj, Maul, Savage, Feral, Dooku…

He kept a tally of all those Darksiders that liked him and that he liked in return. What did it make him, if he kept collecting them like that? Could he keep calling himself Jedi if all his apprentices were somehow attracted to the Dark Side?

_It makes you a better Jedi than ever, Obi-Wan, because you understand better than anyone else_ , Qui-Gon said to him. _I have no doubt you even could very well save my old Master._

“You burdened me with the apprentice you wanted to have instead of me, and now, you want to burden me with your Master? What did I do to you to make you hate me?” he moaned and put an arm over his eyes to hide himself from the outside world.

_Do not be so dramatic. I do not hate you, Padawan_ , scolded his Master.

“ _Dramatic_!” Ben exclaimed and rose to his feet next to his bed, where he began pacing agitatedly. “How can I be anything else than _dramatic_ when our lineage is full of _you_ dramatic people! Yoda and his dramatic _wisdom_ , Dooku and his dramatic _flair_ , you with your dramatic _abnegation of everything that is not the Living Force_ , Anakin and his dramatics _full stops_ and even Ahsoka and her dramatic _faces_ and _actions_ and _adolescence_!”

He pointed a finger in the face of the ghost of his Master.

“ _I’m_ the only one who is not dramatic in this lot I’ve been thrown in! _Why_ did I say yes, when you finally accepted me as your Padawan?!”

_Are you finished with your tantrum?_ The ghost asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Ben moaned in defeat and fell on his bed.

¤

He was extremely relieved to not have Maul returning to the planet when Dooku was still on it. It could have cause a catastrophe and _the Sith_ would have become involved and it could all have gone from worse to worser. That wasn’t even a word, but he would create it for an occasion like this one that he had avoided.

He was also a little drunk.

He had thought he deserved at least a toast – or three, or seven – after having been the host of Count Dooku, Sith Lord. Like, the actual host, in _his own_ abode. Dooku had been his personal guest. When had he accepted that?

That’s right, when Anakin had talked to him about Yoda making a nuisance of himself and to avoid a disaster, Ben had concluded that he would keep a close eye – or both of them, more like – on the Count.

The stay of Dooku had not been a disaster; it had been the complete opposite, in fact. They had debated and had philosophical discussions, had talked about the political climate of the galaxy and even had eaten delicious meals – thanks to the clairvoyance of Ren Shakaa, otherwise Ben would have only been able to offer his guest protein bars – with good wines to go with them and Corellian brandy when they wanted to just relax. Which Ben could not stop laughing about when he thought about those times.

So, why was he drunk? Good question. He thought it might be the decompression after many a stressful days, and a little bit of hysteria to go with it.

And why was Maul the one to find him? Because the zabrak just came back from his little trip from wherever he went and Ben had waited for him on the steps of their little spaceport.

“Hello there, Maul!” he greeted with a cheerful smile.

And promptly lost it when he hiccupped. Which was not dignified or civilised at all.

“Oh Force,” sighed the zabrak. “You’re drunk.”

“Yup!”

“And a happy drunk at that,” Maul added.

“Now, now,” Ben consoled him. “Don’t be such a melodramatic person like Ani. It’s not like it’s the end of the galaxy! Well, I mean, not today. Or tomorrow. But maybe in five years. Or is that eight or nine years?” he hummed thoughtfully.

Maul rubbed his eyes. He looked tired and somewhat stressed, but Ben was relieved to see his eyes were silver still. He looked more like his mother though, with this natural eye colour.

“I’m back now, what is it that was so important for me to shorten my trip?” asked the zabrak.

“Well, my friend,” he said, and then he waited. He blinked when he saw no reaction and a large smile appeared on his face, partially hidden by his beard. “At last! You stopped wincing when I said “my friend”! Which means we really are friends now, are we not? I finally wore you out with that!”

“You planned it?” questioned Maul incredulously.

“Well, of course I did! Everything I do is planned in advance, didn’t you know that?” Ben replied, a little surprised himself. He thought it was pretty clear he was always planning since the beginning.

“That is not what your Padawan, Sunrider, is saying,” was the flat answer.

“Why, that little…!” he spluttered and stood up on his wavering two feet.

Maul exhaled forcibly and took Ben by the arms and led him to his home.

“Thank you, my friend,” Ben said and let himself be led. “I am glad to see you’re still alive. You have avoided meeting Dooku too when he was here, by being this late, which is good. We wouldn’t want him, or his Master, to know of your location. I wanted to talk to you too. You’ve been all over the galaxy trying to find responses and knowledge about the Force and what it means to be a Jedi or to be a Sith.”

He hesitated a little, his words slurring slightly with the alcohol.

“I wanted to present to you the idea I have. There is a library and a hidden vault in the midst of the ruins of the Jedi Temple. That, and you have amassed your own collection of rare treasures and holocrons. I wanted to make you Guardian of Knowledge on Tython.”

Maul stopped so suddenly, Ben overbalanced a little, but righted himself soon enough. He observed the zabrak and saw the gaze returned, intense and resolute.

“What does that mean exactly?” Maul queried.

His voice was soft, but there was an undercurrent of steel behind his words. He reminded Ben of Savage at that moment.

“Come along, we will take tea inside and I will explain it to you.”

They went and Ben began the process of becoming sober by making his body work to remove the alcohol. He sighed as he prepared the tea for Maul and him. A bottle of brandy gone and he was already purging his body of the alcohol. He would stop being drunk enough to appreciate the brandy like he should have. Oh well. He would put off the celebrations for later, then.

“What do you call Guardian of Knowledge?” asked again Maul.

“Knowledge is knowledge,” Ben began, his spoon slowly swirling in his cup without his hands moving it. “Knowledge is also power. Whatever that knowledge, Sith, Jedi or anything else in the middle, it is important for us to know of it. With this knowledge, we will advance, we will evolve. Knowledge is not inherently good or bad; it is what we do with it that will determine our resolves, our motivations, and our character. What I want, Maul, is to have someone bring in the Order that I want to see prosper, the knowledge of the past, to make a better future.”

“That’s some pretty words, Kenobi. Do you really understand what it is that you demand of me?” the zabrak questioned.

“Of course I do,” Ben replied softly. “You’ve seen and felt the Dark, my friend. You now strive for something else, which is not of the corrupt but generous Dark and which is not of the clear but cold Light. You are striving for both and neither at once. You are from the Dark, but are clear-headed enough to not be manipulated by it. You are beginning to understand the Light, but are too full of passionate emotions to become what we could call cold-hearted – another word for when inaction is the answer to serene contemplation.”

“Then,” Maul said. “Why me?”

“Because you _are_ a Knowledge onto yourself, Maul. You carry it within you, inside of you. You are the result of following one of the extremity of the Force, surviving it and then, you came back from it stronger than ever. You _know_. And _that_ , is the reason why I want you to become Guardian of Knowledge on Tython. I think you could do a great deal with what you know, what you could learn _and_ what you could make us learn. And, it would afford you the opportunity to travel to all those places you already go to. What do you think?”

Maul stared at his cup of boiling-hot tea and drained it in one gulp.

“Do I get a complete building for my own as a compensation for the job?”

Ben smiled in satisfaction.

(Six down, his work was done.)

(His apprentices and companions would be busy while he dealt with the problems, otherwise known as Jedi.)

¤

Oh, well…!

He had thought it was going to be difficult, but he had been proven wrong about that, and proven right about plans that needed to be planned with the worst in mind.

Because the team of Jedi sent on Tython promised nothing good. And everything Bad.

As in _Bad Feeling_.

There was Master Mace Windu. That the _Master of the Order_ , and one of the Masters of the Jedi High Council, accepted an assignment on a planet for a few weeks made him believe they were extremely suspicious of him and his people on Tython. Mace would not leave the Temple for anything else.

Next, was Master Jerec. Once the apprentice of Madame Jocasta Nu, who was at the moment the chief Librarian of the Coruscant Jedi Temple, the male was a great archaeologist and a fine connoisseur of Sith lore. He was also a miraluka with a strong Force Sight that could become problematic for Ben and all of his companions. He was also a Master on the Council of Reassignment and could act as the voice for Madame Nu, who was on the Council of First Knowledge.

Ben could sense the ulterior motives of Jerec miles away: you didn’t send a damn _Sith expert_ on the site of the ruins of a Jedi Temple, even if he was an archaeologist. You didn’t send a damn Master of the _Council of Reassignment_ , if questions about the past-Initiates he had taken on Tython hadn’t been asked. And finally, you didn’t send a damn _miraluka_ Master to _view_ the architecture of past Jedi Temples, but to observe and judge in the force the person under suspicions!

Damn!

Force… He was really becoming _annoyed_ , when he began to swear like that in his head.

Knight Bultar Swan was the third Jedi he saw. She had just been knighted, if he recalled correctly. She had also been the Padawan of Master Micah Giett and when he had been killed, she became the Padawan of Master Plo Koon. It was known that Master Koon was a diplomat, like Master Giett had been, and it was also known that he passed his skills to his Learners. Including “aggressive negotiations”. Master Koon may be the most kind-hearted Kel Dor Ben knew, but he was not slacking in lightsaber combat and was a ferocious opponent. He was also a Master of the Council of Reconciliation.

_Three Jedi representing the four different Councils of the Jedi Order… I’m impressed_ , Qui-Gon spoke quietly next to him. _You could never do things in half, Padawan Mine, could you?_

_Impressed is not the correct word, Master. I think you wanted to say ‘_ irritated’, Ben snarked back at the ghost.

¤

“Ambassador Kenobi,” Mace greeted him with a shallow bow, after having set foot on the ground.

Well, that put the tone of their future cohabitation, if Master Windu was so flagrantly impolite to him. What was going on in the head of his old friend? He had never been so obvious in his past life. What did Ben changed that made him into this suspicious man?

Also, it was still something he had to become used to, this new title associated with his name.

(Which, he had noticed, didn’t even made the Jedi bat an eyelash.)

It was too true, Ben had found during his exile on the sands of Tatooine, that keeping a part of his own name did not even made anyone suspicious of his true identity. They thought it was too obvious, and so, _obviously_ , nobody would keep that name if they wanted to stay hidden. Well, Ben profited of the arrogance of people, who assumed things.

“Master Jedi,” he returned with a bow of the same calibre.

¤

(He knew they were hiding something and he would find out _what_ they were hiding. It was for this reason he was trudging onwards in the thick forest at the south of the settlement, like a damn truant and not like the Master Jedi he was.

The _snap_ of a shattered branch got him out of his morose thoughts faster than a warning from the Force and he whirled, searching for the sound and the dim presence in the Force he could faintly sense.

Someone was watching him.

_Snap_.

He froze and listened. The chill of the air made him broke out in a cold sweat, not the loud breathing he could hear. Certainly not.

“Who is here?” he asked the empty space above and around him.

A cackle answered him.

_Swoosh_.

A displacement of air made his cloak move. He turned with Force-enhanced speed, but his hands only closed on nothing.

“I am Jedi Master Mace Windu and I demand that you go out of hiding and meet with me,” he ordered with his Master-of-the-Order voice.

“Not nice, it is, to order natives like that, Master Windu.”

He turned on himself and stared disbelieving at the sight.

“Master Yoda?!”)

¤

The vision hit him full force when he was serving himself in the mess hall. He let his plate fall and shatter on the ground, while he staggered blindly, groping for the nearest surface to grip, to help him stay upright.

The vision of Yoda meeting Mace Windu in the forest made him swear so profusely and in so many languages, that the entire crowded hall went mute in stunned incredulity.

It wasn’t often the Jedi Master resorted to that kind of language or to this kind of unsteady behaviour, resembling more of the after-effects of an alcohol-only binge.

It was exceptional too, to see him run at full speed and in a blur, towards the exit with Force-enhanced ability.

While the hall returned to their meal and began a session of rumours-mongering, Ben was running full tilt towards the south of the city, and all the ways to the site, the Bad Feeling he had, stayed with him.

He finally arrived at the place he saw in his Force Vision.

But then, Master Windu cried in disbelief, a rather loud:

“Master Yoda?!”

And Ben felt the ground open under his feet and his stomach drop somewhere in the core of the planet. He just had his Bad Feeling confirmed and worsened.

It couldn’t be worse, now.

He _knew_ the past months had been too good to be true!

¤

“ _Ambassador Kenobi_ ,” chirped a voice in his comm unit, loud enough for all to hear. “ _The first shipment just arrived. Where do you want it?_ ”

He was wrong, it just got worse!

He groped for the unit and answered calmly back, when all he wanted to do was go find a hole and sleep in it for a long, _long,_ time, more so when he saw Master Windu turn slowly around and stare at him like he just got out of a hat and cried "Surprise!".

“Inform my friend Sunrider of this, Ava Sen. He will know what to do.”

He closed the call and stared back at Mace.

“Obi-Wan?!”

Ben sighed.

Yes, things just got worse.

¤

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter is long, so the next one won't be too soon ;-D
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading it so far! And Many Thanks to all of you people, you rock!


	6. (27 BBY, part III, to 26 BBY)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, apparently I lied, because here is the next chapter...  
> Enjoy it, people!

¤

**(27 BBY, part III)**

¤

The _boom_ echoed in the Force like a sonic wave, as shatterpoints exploded, disintegrated and reformed.

¤

[Somewhere in the galaxy, the Chancellor of the Galactic Republic fell from his chair in surprised shock, to the incredulity of the dignitaries he was receiving.]

¤

<The Count of Serenno let his glass full of red wine from his best vintage tumble from his grip and on his expensive clothes, before he stilled his shaking hands.>

¤

/The Master/Padawan pair that was formed of Kenobi and Skywalker, broke out in a cold sweat without knowing why, as they were meditating in their apartment in the Coruscant Jedi Temple.\

¤

(And Jedi Master Mace Windu fainted.)

¤

Yoda and Ben looked at the crumpled form of the dark-skinned Jedi Master on the ground in astonishment – and wonder; it was not every day that the Master of the Order fell unconscious before witnesses; or just plain fell unconscious.

“Well, Master,” Ben declared. “That is your fault.”

“My fault, it is not!” denied Yoda. “You, he saw last! Your fault, it is! And minding your own business, you should, Master Kenobi, and not mine!”

“Your business is mine as well, Master Yoda!” countered Ben. “I know you’re planning something.”

Yoda cackled.

“Not against your plans, it is, Master Kenobi,” the diminutive Master told him. “Interfere with yours, my plans do not. Think, you do, that hinder your work, I do?”

“Certainly,” he answered. “And I see nothing to prove me wrong in this assumption.”

“Not interested in galactic domination, I am,” hummed Yoda.

Ben’s eyebrows rose on his forehead in surprise.

“I am not interested in galactic domination either, Master,” he told him.

“Not what your work say, it is, Master Kenobi! But maybe good for the galaxy, you will be!” Yoda cackled in near hysterical glee. “A Coalition, you did! For the unhappy planets. Many there are. More and more, there are, as the Sith manipulations in the Senate continue. Know that, you do, Master Kenobi. Sure, are you, that all of you do not care for galactic domination?”

Sometimes, Ben forgot that under all the _Trollitch_ personality, there was a nine hundred years old being, that had been a Jedi Master revered through the ages. It took him by surprise and made him sorrowful when he thought about it, about what Yoda and he became to just survive in a galaxy that didn't want them.

And well… Ben had to think about what Master Yoda had told him, because the old troll was wise if nothing else.

He didn’t want galactic domination at his fingertips, he was sure of that. But, sometimes, the results were more telling than the rest. Right? No.

Yes.

Oh well, he’ll think about it later, then. For the moment, they had a Master Windu to take care of and take the man out of that wet mud that was sipping in the clothes of the Master Jedi.

¤

While Master Yoda took care of the unconscious Mace Windu, Ben made his way to where Anakin was receiving the clones with Ava Sen.

He had hoped the transfer could be done without notifying the Jedi, but with Mace, it was too late. He would receive and welcome them in their spaceport, in the city that was about to become _their_ city. It was the first step towards the freedom of the clones. It made Ben’s heart beat faster when he thought about it, and clench in something akin to regret for his own clones from his past.

¤

“You are Obi-Wan Kenobi from the future. And you,” he continued, pointing his finger at the second person he selected. “Are Anakin Skywalker from the same future.” He moved his finger to the third person. “As are you, Yoda.”

“Yes,” exasperatedly replied Anakin. “Like we told you _the first five times_!” He turned to Ben, then, annoyed. “Can I go, now, Obi-Wan? I can’t stay here with _him_ like that and I have things to do and the men to look after while they do their paperwork.”

“Yes, Anakin,” nodded Ben. “Go and make them finish their paperwork. Remind them it is for their freedom if they do not seem very happy to do it tonight. After that, let them sleep in the barracks. We’ll oversee where they want to live tomorrow. And please, begin to ask them for the guard rotation of their,” his gaze rapidly shifted to Master Windu before coming back to rest on Anakin’s face. “ _Creators_. I’ll come around for the rest tomorrow.”

His old friend nodded and quickly darted off to parts unknown, while Yoda and he kept their attention focused on the awaken Jedi Master.

“What in all loving karking Sith hells and all that is precious to the Force, is going on here?!” the Korun suddenly exclaimed.

“That, my friend,” replied Ben. “Is a _very_ good question.”

“Dangerous knowledge, it is,” Yoda confirmed with a nod of his head, his ears falling slightly. “Sure, are you, to want to know of it, Master Windu?”

He seemed to seriously ponder about the matter, staring piercingly at them.

“Yes.”

Well, you didn’t scare easily a Vaapad user, Ben thought with humor.

¤

(He had been less surprised than he thought he should have been. Maybe it had been because of the non-stop migraines he began having six years ago. It was them that had alerted him of galaxy-wide changing events and _time travellers_ certainly fit the criteria of changing events and could be the cause of his continuous affliction.

He knew Kenobi and Skywalker had been responsible in one way or another for his suffering! He just hadn’t thought about _double from the future_!

After having heard what _Ben_ and Yoda had to say, he knew he would have to be careful from now on. The diminutive Master was right to declare it was dangerous knowledge. Ben was also right in requesting different Jedi studying the ruins of the Jedi Temple, if the Order still wanted to study them (he wanted Jedi that were a little less observant). He had said yes, but because he knew he should keep a team on Tython, more for his own spying network on the time travellers, than for the personal relief of Ambassador Kenobi – and why did he not think about that name when he first met the man?! – and because it would also be a convenient excuse to go back and forth between Coruscant and Tython.

He had no doubt Ben knew his true concerns about his decision to ‘ _study the Temple_ ’, but the man had said nothing and had just smiled warmly and knowingly back at him. It reminded him a little of Master Yoda and the all-knowing gaze of the old troll. Which the Yoda from the future lost somewhere along the way, for it to become something more… mischievous in nature? Dare he think it?

Well now, he was on his way back at the Temple and the rooms that had been cleared for the Jedi team, where he would tell the two Jedi accompanying him of his decision to send a true archaeologist team, when they would next depart from the planet.)

¤

“The documents you have been given yesterday were to officially welcome you as citizens of Tython, gentlemen. They register you as inhabitants of the city. That is why, when you were still on Kamino, we asked you to think about a family name you wanted to have. I see you all agreed on the same one. _Vodetti_.”

He beamed at them all and they smiled back at him. For some, it was the first time they finally met Ben, or as some of the _vod’e_ called him, _nuhaatyc manda_.

“I like it,” Ben continued. “It is a reminder of where you came from, of what you are and it is also a promise of a future.”

He looked both utterly happy and utterly heartbroken at the same time. That made some of the _vod’e_ shift restlessly in their seat, suddenly uneasy. Ben shook his head and a smile came back on his face.

“Now, then. Did you think about the list of professions we gave you? Have any of you chosen what sort of career they want to go in?”

“Yes,” said one of the clones at the front.

He stood up from his seat and gave Ben a datapad full of their future. Ben stared at it, took it in his own hand and looked up at the clone in front of him. His misty blue-grey eyes met amber ones.

“Thank you, Ser Cody Vodetti,” he whispered with a genuine but trembling smile.

Cody sensed something deep was happening and he didn’t need the Force to know that.

“Thank _you_ , Sir, for all that you did and continue to do for all of us,” he quietly replied.

“ **THANK YOU!** ” the _vod’e_ yelled as one.

And then, they were applauding and cheering and Ben was laughing with them, even as his tears fell in his beard and dried on his cheeks.

¤

“Uuuuh, that rotgut is still as awful as last time,” Ben moaned in misery.

“That’ll make you learn to never trust a medic with a tendency to make alcohol,” snarked Anakin. “I think last lifetime, Helix and Kix used it for field medicine _and_ for their binge on rest days.”

“Oh,” mumbled Ben in his pillow. “That explains the awful headaches and disgusting taste in my mouth.”

“Well, at least the celebrations with the clones yesterday were worth it,” his old friend quietly stated in a wistful tone.

“Yes,” Ben replied without moving. “Now, let me die, please.”

Anakin snorted.

“No chance of that! Ava Sen said there is another shipment coming in later today.”

“Oh, Force…” he sighed.

He was not ready to drink alcohol again, if they wanted to celebrate _again_.

¤

(“What are they all cheering about, down in the city?” was what Knight Swan asked him, once he was back from his little spying trip to see Ben.

“They’re drinking. Something awful and heavily alcoholic,” he replied, his nose crunching up in disgust as he remembered the foul odour of the beverage.

“We’re not invited?” she pouted. “Could we gate-crash their party?”

“I really don’t think you want to do that, Knight Swan,” he severely intoned with a frown. “Let them to their debauchery.”

He shook his head. Was it what the future would hold for them? Inebriated Jedi that had a tendency towards mad behaviour and madder plans?

It was fortunate he was now in the know. He could be the counter-weight to all this madness.)

¤

“I hope your weeks went well, Masters Jedi,” Ben intoned with his dignified air at the three Jedi that were departing from Tython. “And I hope your replacement Jedi will be as delightful as you have been.”

He threw a charming smile at them. Master Windu gritted his teeth, Master Jerec inclined his head and Knight Swan blushed furiously, before bowing her head.

After all the fiasco with their discovery by Master Windu, Ben and the Korun came to an understanding and had reached a level of beginning friendship. He was happy to let it grow from there, even if he knew Mace wasn’t so certain. The man had been given many shocks in the few short days he spent on the planet and Ben was sure that the Master would be more balanced once he had the time to correctly meditate in the safety of the Coruscant Temple.

“Until later, Ambassador Kenobi,” the Jedi said and embarked on their ship.

Ben stared at it until it left the atmosphere, a thoughtful look on his face. Things had been better than he had expected them to be. They even had a high-ranking sort of spy in the Jedi Order of Coruscant now, thanks to the agreement they had with Master Windu.

¤

**(26 BBY)**

¤

“What is that I hear about you being corrupted?” announced Anakin, storming in his office like a raging gundark.

“I am not,” Ben answered calmly back at his ex-Padawan, not even looking up from the datapad he was writing on.

“Oh, good, because if I had to say one more time to another person, about you being too honourable to accept Corellian brandy from Dooku, I would have to –”

“It is Serenno wine and not brandy,” he interrupted with the same flat tone.

“... Oh kark! You _are_ being corrupted!” cried Anakin, pointing a finger in Ben’s direction.

“I accept the gifts of the Count as he intends them to be: that of a developing friendship,” Ben was fast to say.

“You’re accepting bribes,” insisted his old friend.

“No. For them to be bribes, I would have to accept his political views and enter in formal negotiations with the man. I am not and will not do so. Do not be so scared, Anakin, I have still my honour intact, I assure you. I won’t let the Count do away with it.”

“… You just told another flirting joke, didn’t you? You just… Did you just second-degree tell me that you haven’t been sleeping with Dooku?! Uuurgh! _Why_! _Why_ do I _understand_ you!”

“So dramatic…! Live a little, would you, Anakin.”

The ex-Sith Lord stormed off with an angry scowl on his face, just like he stormed in the office. Ben shook his head. Some things never changed.

¤

“Uncle Ben! Look!”

That put his mind to a crashing stop and he looked up with wide eyes at Jango Fett, who was himself looking at Ben with wide, and then narrowed, eyes.

“I swear I didn’t tell him to call me that!” Ben exclaimed, his hands coming up in the air in a gesture that wanted to prove his innocence.

“Then why is it that my son is calling you ‘ _uncle_ ’?” barked the Bounty Hunter.

“… Affection? You know how it exists in the wide galaxy we are in? That there are other things than blasters, fights and business?”

“You want my blaster to burn a hole through you?” Jango growled.

“Well, it is somewhat baffling that Boba is learning to be a really polite and happy boy when you, his father, are on this side of being a hissing and spitting loth-cat with a disposition for swearing, murdering, kidnapping, extortioning and just plain being a mean old man.”

“Is that your way to tell me that you have a good influence on him?”

“… He’ll have a better chance at having a normal job and choose his own path in the future, if being a Bounty Hunter is not for him.”

“Is that how you ask me for the permission for him to keep calling you ‘ _uncle_ ’?”

“Did I say something? I didn’t say anything.”

“I became fluent in Ben-speak,” was the deadpan response.

¤

“ _They’re going to deliver supplies to the archaeologists’ team on Tython. Don’t let them see you. Don’t hurt them. And by the Force, be careful!_ ”

“What do you take me for, Mace?” he asked, affecting an insulted voice. “I’m not suicidal. Yet, anyway. And I say that in the literal sense of the word, of course, because you do not scare me, my friend.”

“ _Your atrocious sense of humour has worsened with your age_ ,” stated Mace long-sufferingly. “ _I hope the Kenobi from my Order and my time won’t get like you are_.”

“There is little chance of that happening. He won’t be shaped by the same events that shaped me. It is to his benefit and mental health, I can assure you.”

“ _Oh, I know_ ,” the Master drily said. “ _I met you, didn’t I?_ ”

Oh, nice! Were Mace’s eyebrows always this high in his past life, when the man had been inclined to make a sardonic joke?

“Are you this nice when you weekly talk to Yoda?” was the cynical answer of Ben.

“ _No_ ,” scoffed the Jedi. “ _He’s madder than you!_ ”

At that, he had nothing else to add.

¤

“Anakin, Master Windu asked us to go on a mission,” he said to Anakin who was relaxing on a sunny patch on the ground, outside in his own garden – why his old Padawan kept coming to his own, when Anakin had his own house and garden, he didn’t know. “We have devised a plan and we need to appear before the Council.”

“Did you say ‘ _appear before the Council_ ’?” Anakin startled from his reclined position, voice going high-pitched with his shock ringing through the Force. “Because I thought I heard you say ‘ _appear before the Council_ ’.”

“I did say it, old friend,” he confirmed while raising an eyebrow at Anakin, who was still on the ground, but was now sitting. “What do you think about a little acting?”

¤

“The ship from the Jedi is going to come down in a few minutes, Master Kenobi.”

“Thank you, Aid. Let them deliver the supplies to the archaeologists. I trust you will have everything under control here, while I am absent? This is a lot of work.”

“Of course, Master. I was programmed with this work in mind.”

“Yes, yes,” he waved it away before pointing at the pile of datapads. “All the sensitive documents, if they can wait, let them on the side and I will look at them when I return. If they can’t wait and I don’t answer my comm…” he thought for a moment, going over each person he knew. “Have Mayor Shakaa and Feral handle them. The both of them, together. Ren has the habitude of treating administrative work and handle matters for a settlement and Feral will bring to him the necessary point of view of Force-Sensitives, if they are concerned about the problem.”

“I will inform them, Master. Anything else?”

“Do not let the _Trollitch_ in this office. Ever,” he insisted, staring straight at the sensors passing for the eyes of the droid. “If he was seen in, you’ll have to go over every paper and verify what is written, or we could face a catastrophe of the intergalactic size.”

“… Can I have a guard?”

“… Did you learn sarcasm from me?” answered Ben, when his disbelief went away enough to let him speak.

“Sarcasm? Master Kenobi, I am being entirely honest with my question.”

“Oh. Do you want Jango to keep you safe?”

“I would prefer someone with less ability to ‘ _take care of me_ _with just the push of a button on his deactivation chips for ‘pests control’, specialized for electronics and droids that became ‘pests_ ’.”

Ben raised his eyebrows.

“I am surprised you would know about them.”

“The Bounty Hunter likes to remind me of this fact each time I go to him and ask him to sign documents,” replied Aid.

If a droid could have pinched lips to make its displeasure known, Ben was sure that Aid would have them.

“That… Actually, that sounds like him,” he confirmed with a slow shake of his head and a roll of his eyes. “I will ask one of the older of the Jedi in training. Will that be enough for you, Master Aid?” he inquired with heavy sarcasm.

“Certainly, Master Kenobi.”

And the droid departed and Ben was not sure if he was happy or not that his droid didn’t seem inclined to sarcastic wordplays with him. But he _was_ sure that Aid understood his sarcasm _and_ did not oblige him, by being so unresponsive. He made for a very unenthusiastic public.

He was certain Anakin created him that way as some sort of revenge on his part.

¤

“Why did you knock them out like that?!” Ben exclaimed in horror. “I said to Mace we would return them to him unhurt! And what’s the first thing you do? You knock them out with your lightsaber! They’re bleeding, unconscious and have probably a concussion!”

“Well…” Anakin searched for words. “We’re resistant. And used to it. No problem.”

He shrugged his shoulders, nonchalant, while Ben pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as he forcefully exhaled.

“You’re carrying the both of us. The both of them,” he said with a little wave of his hand in the direction of the two comatose bodies.

“Why?” the ex-Sith Lord whined in protest. “Carry yourself! I’m not your fetching dog!”

“You knock both of them out yourself. You deal with the consequences of your actions, Anakin.”

“… fine!”

And that was how they found themselves with a younger Obi-Wan Kenobi and a younger Anakin Skywalker, both of them unconscious, to carry. They brought them to an unoccupied room in Yoda’s shack, where the old Master would keep them sedated or Force-sleeping.

(Or so they hoped. It was difficult to know what Yoda would do.)

¤

“What is that ship? Did they get it from a junk planet or what?” mumbled Anakin, while he looked over the controls panels of their way off planet.

It was the ship that Knight Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker had flown in. It was the ship that would see Ben and Ani fly away.

They had changed from their clothes to the one of their younger selves. It was strange to be dressed again in the garbs of the Jedi. He had even forgotten how he was more disposed to beige and white colours before the Clones Wars. He had changed them while the wars were raging, and had preferred beige and brown ones at that moment.

“Everything’s alright, Anakin?” Ben asked his old friend, clapping a hand on his shoulder and stroking his naked chin.

The ex-Sith Lord exhaled loudly and batted away – for the umpteenth times – the fake Padawan braid he had in his hairs.

“I had to cut my hair in this stupid short hairstyle, I have to keep a fake braid hanging over my ear, this ship is good for a junkyard and we’re going on Coruscant to see the Jedi High Council and we’ll be just next door to the Senate, where that bastard is! No, I’m not alright!”

“Oh good,” answered Ben. “If you had been less stressed, I would have thought you mad.”

Anakin glared at him meanly.

“You don’t look stressed,” he declared snidely.

“Well, that’s because I _am_ mad,” Ben replied with an entirely matter-of-fact tone. “Or did you forget the twenty years I passed as a mad old desert hermit on Tatooine?”

Anakin made a face and returned to the controls panels. Electronics were easier to understand and appreciate than living beings, he found.

¤

“Knight Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker,” intoned Master Windu from his seat.

Next to him, Anakin was shifting on his feet and Ben could sense the underlying humour and need to laugh emanating from the ex-Sith Lord. Ben remained stoic but mentally scolded his old Padawan into behaving, when he noticed the twitchy left eye of Mace.

(Maybe he should have notified the Korun Master of the inability of Anakin to act.)

“Well, are you?” suddenly asked Master Yoda.

The difference between Jedi Master Yoda and Yoda the _Trollitch_ was glaringly obvious and sent a pang in his heart. He sensed the same slow stunned realisation made his way in Anakin’s mind.

“We are both fine, Master,” answered Ben while he hid his hands in the wide brown cloak he had stolen from Knight Kenobi.

“Something, I sense from you both,” said Yoda. “Changed, you both are.”

Anakin froze beside him, Mace stiffened slightly on his chair, but Ben calmly stared back at Yoda. He was immune to that old troll and his piercing gaze. More so since he came to live with the _Trollitch_ as a particularly stubborn and maddening neighbour, first as a ghost, and now, as a living human being again.

“Changed, you say, Master? From what? We are still Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, standing before the Council to receive a mission.”

His words rang true in the Force and he hoped that would let Yoda drop this path of questioning. Until they could safely escape from Coruscant and the Temple, once their mission would be finished, at least. Then, they would let their younger selves return to the Temple and let them handle Yoda.

He mentally sighed in relief when Yoda did not continue and the Council explained to them what the mission was about.

¤

“Master.”

“Yes, Anakin?”

“Can I kill him?”

“I… don’t want that to be the only answer we have, but if the inevitable were to happen, I wouldn’t put it against you. But maybe… Not before Master Yaddle, hmm?”

“You distract her and I cut his head and sent it to the Sith for a warning that I am coming to him, next.”

“Now, Anakin, don’t be so impatient. There will come a time when we _all_ will be coming for the Sith. In the meantime, we have to deal with Granta Omega.”

“Do you think our lineage is damned?”

“Why do you ask me that now, Anakin?”

“Because that Force-cursed _sleemo_ is the son of Xanatos, who is the Fallen Jedi apprentice of Master Qui-Gon. We also have Dooku, Fallen and Sith, apprentice of Yoda. Then, there’s me, Fallen and Sith for a time, your own apprentice. And Ahsoka, not a Jedi, but not a Sith and not even of the Order anymore. And Luke. Last of the Jedi, but first one of the Jedi too. After that, we have the two of you, Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi, last Jedi of the Order, cursed to be alone for twenty years and becoming madder as time went by. There’s something to be said about it all, you know.”

“I… didn’t need to be reminded of our entire history, Anakin, but I thank you nonetheless. Now, I’ll just be sad for a little while, instead of focused on the mission we are going on.”

“Who’s the one who is dramatic, now?”

“Not me, I certainly should hope not.”

“Well, we could ask Master Yaddle for her opinion.”

“No, let her meditate, Anakin.”

“We should talk to her. It might be the last time she is alive.”

“You’re cheerful today, aren’t you? I asked Mace for this mission on Mawan to prevent this unfortunate conclusion. It is the reason that, if you are brought to it, I won’t hold the death of Granta Omega against you. But if we could take him prisoner, that would be preferable. He may have valuable information against the Chancellor and _that_ , that is worth his life. He might have information on Zan Arbor too. She is too dangerous to be in the Sith hands.”

“And then, I will kill her again.”

“You’re impossible today. You are in one of your Sith mood.”

“That’s because of the Jedi Council. They have that effect on me.”

“Yes… Well, do try to repress the urge to kill them, please.”

“I make no promises.”

“We are _en route_ to Mawan to save Master Yaddle, who is on the Council, Anakin.”

“… fine.”

“Good. Thank you, old friend.”

¤

“And how is Master Yaddle?” he asked.

“ _She’s recovering from her wounds, thanks to you and Skywalker._ ”

“Good. What other news have you from your side of the Republic?”

“ _The Hutts have been asking the Republic for help, Kenobi! What did you do?!_ ”

“Oh, nothing. Why would it be me? Whatever gave you that asinine idea, Master Windu?” he answered Mace with a light tone.

“ _You did not tell me you were the Elected Official of the Coalition of Free Planets either!_ ”

Ben spat the mouthful of tea he had in his mouth and coughed to free his airways of the liquid.

“My apologies,” he rasped, when he had finished struggling to inhale air in his deprived lungs. He raised his head to look at the hologram of Master Windu, blinking slightly teary eyes at the blue image of the Jedi caused by his coughing fit. “ _What_ am I supposed to be?”

“ _… You’re not informed then,_ ” was the deep sigh of the Korun Jedi Master, as he shifted on his seat to make himself more comfortable. “ _I did not think it was possible for you to not know, but your reaction is genuine._ ”

“Back up, Mace!” Ben ordered. “What did you say I was supposed to be?”

“Officer _Kenobi. Elected Official of the Coalition of Free Planets. Otherwise known as: Leader of the Liberated Planets. Which put forward the question: liberated from what? As I know, Ryloth belonged to the Republic, before they seceded_ _from it and went to you._ ”

“Well, you know… It’s becoming difficult to live within the Republic, more so for the planets in the Outer Rim. I won’t hold it against the planets if they want to be free of the tyranny the Republic becomes and be on their own, with just allies to help them when they most desperately need it,” explained Ben. “Also, I am no Officer.”

“ _That’s not what the people of the Coalition we have been speaking to are saying, Ben_ ,” replied Mace.

“Force…” he breathed out. “Like I needed that with everything else going on.”

“ _Your damn fault, Kenobi! You began all this movement by being…_ ” he trailed off, searching for the right word.

“… Helpful?” Ben said to him. “I think the word you are searching for is ‘ _helpful_ ’. That you don’t know it instinctively is saying a lot about the state of the Jedi Order, Mace.”

“ _… I know_ ,” sighed the Jedi Master. “ _We are pressured by the Senate to do something about the Confederation of Independent Systems and now about the Coalition of Free Planets. They are saying that Dooku was a Jedi Master and is our problem to resolve and that you are a Force-Sensitive even if not in the Order and are also our problem to resolve._ ”

“Yes… I see how it can be stressful,” Ben nodded.

“ _I think you mean hectic, nerve-wracking and completely taxing,_ ” was the cynic reply.

“Welcome to _the Game for the galaxy_ with the Sith, Master Jedi,” Ben smiled back at Master Windu, but it was not a nice smile, it was sharp and feral, one showing all his teeth.

¤

“Which one of you has been talking to the people of the planets that want to join our Coalition and made _me_ an unofficial leader of the same Coalition?”

He had been waiting for Anakin, and maybe Asajj, to raise a hand. He had not once thought Feral, Savage, Maul _and_ Jango would raise a hand _with_ Anakin and Asajj.

He reeled in stunned incredulity.

Where they conspiring against him? Plying him with so much work, they would tire him out and then keep him in a coma, while they went and took the galaxy over by chaos?

Or where they somehow of the idea he was an invincible man, ready to take on everything and not topple over something as insignificant as fatigue?

(Right… He might be dramatic sometimes, Qui-Gon was correct.)

He would prefer if they had a very high opinion of him, but it would mean that they did give him more work and a vast amount of it and that they would let him do it. Because let’s face it, in this room, he was the only one with capable of being tactful and the one with a great deal of negotiating deals under his belt.

He didn’t have a choice in this matter either, did he?

He foresaw a lot of talks with different leaders of planets in the future, and as many headaches. He sighed in despair. He had never agreed nor signed for that kind of occupation when the Force sent him back in time!

“Why?” he finally asked.

They looked around them, at each other, before redirecting their gazes to him and shrugging their shoulders.

“Because you are,” was the unanimous reply.

¤

“The _Trollitch_ has disappeared, Master!”

Kark it!

¤


	7. (26 BBY, part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you every one of you, who are accompanying me in this journey that is writing/reading/enjoying my fic! You make me happy and in return, I hope to make you happy with a new chapter!  
> Enjoy it, people!
> 
> And may the Force be with you!

¤

**(26 BBY, part II)**

¤

“Where has that troll gone, now?” he cried exasperatedly.

He was ready to shake his hands above his head, like a bad clichéd gesture, but he didn’t think his image could survive that. If he was to be the Elected Official of the Coalition of Free Planets, he had to keep a certain appearance for the people’s sake.

“He can’t have gone that far,” Anakin said next to him. “More so, if he had the additional weight of two unconscious bodies.”

“He’s a Master Jedi, what do you think?” Ben snapped. “He doesn’t need a hand or even two; he just has to use the Force. What I don’t understand, is what does he want with us? Them? They’re ignorant of the whole time travel thing; he can’t have them help him.”

Anakin shrugged his shoulders and Ben sighed. It was indeed worrying, that the three of them had disappeared.

Ben _knew_ something like that was going to happen. He just hadn’t thought it would be when he was already drowning with work and new things to do every time he turned his back.

Yoda had chosen wisely his moment to act, if he wanted less of the attention of Ben on him.

¤

“Padawan Sunrider!” cried one of the attendants of the spaceport, once they set foot outside the forest, covered in mud, branches, leaves and other insects he really didn’t want to think about. “We couldn’t find your ship anywhere!”

“WHAT!” yelled an outraged ex-Sith Lord – on the verge of unleashing some of his anger on something, just for the sake of a ship.

Ben rolled his eyes, as Anakin was running at full Force-enhanced speed towards the spaceport, leaving the attendant cursing behind him in the dust, while Ben tugged upsettingly on his beard – and met naked skin, because he had used a razor to cut it all off to appear before the council. It left him feeling unmoored and he didn’t know what to do, now. His arms fell on either side of him, lifeless-like.

“Master Kenobi,” called Aid, doing his dignified running shuffle, heading for him.

Ben wanted to let a hysterical laugh escape his lips, because _of course_ the sky was about to fall on his head, to add to their problems!

(And wherever did he find such an idiot idiom, he didn’t even know.)

“Master Windu is on the comm,” the droid told him.

Oh, Force-damnit.

Mace Windu wasn’t the sky, but he was a problem nonetheless.

¤

Mace rubbed his forehead, as if feeling a migraine coming for him. Ben was already having a migraine on his own and felt too lost for the moment to be able to offer his sympathies to the Jedi Master.

“ _What does that mean, then? That Yoda left?_ ”

“Nothing. He is an adult, a Master Jedi and the Grandmaster of the Order, he can go wherever he wants to go. He knows better than anyone how to survive in the galaxy, more so in a galaxy that doesn’t want to exterminate us for just existing.”

“ _So… what? We left him do whatever he wants to do?_ ”

The suggestion didn’t seem to go well with the Master of the Order. Ben didn’t care.

“Yes. Like I do whatever I want to do. He doesn’t need supervision, you know,” he reminded the Korun Master, because the man _did_ need to have his memory jog now and again, about what was obvious and about what was in front of his own nose.

“ _… That’s not the impression I got._ ”

“And me, do _I_ need supervision too?” he asked sarcastically without waiting for an answer, as his question was rhetoric. “Because Yoda and I became what we became to survive and nobody can change that, change _us_.”

There was silence. Ben tried to not let it offend him too much.

“ _Let’s not go there_ ,” Mace finally responded. “ _We let him go for now, but when we have information about his whereabouts, I want you to go and collect him. I don’t need another Yoda running in the galaxy, when there is already one right here in this Temple._ ”

Well, then. He was offended.

“I hear you, Master Windu,” Ben replied, his tone like ice. “Try ordering your Order, before trying to order mine, hmm?”

He cut the channel off without further words, and exhaled profoundly and slowly, his eyes closed.

Oh, the joy of alliances.

He sometimes regretted his solitude on Tatooine. There, he only had the banthas and eopies to disturb him.

¤

“Anything?” he asked, entering cautiously the room, where electronic parts of droids and ship and everything in-between lay everywhere.

“No,” raged Anakin, pushing buttons on a device in his hands. “He has everything cloaked on my ship.”

“Yes,” he exhaled in exhaustion and found a corner of the table somewhat empty to sit himself on it. “And he has cloaked our counterparts in the Force too. Nothing I did while in meditation seemed to work.”

Ben looked at the ex-Sith Lord with a raised eyebrow, when he threw his scanner against a wall. The electronic device shattered in pieces.

“Better?” he finally asked, once the silence had reinstated his rights on the house.

“No,” was the frustrated reply of Anakin.

¤

“ _Can you send back to us Kenobi and Skywalker?_ ” inquired Mace. “ _Their absence will soon be noticed._ ”

The man had commed back some days later and had grudgingly offered his apologies to Ben, for the harmful words he had said.

(Ben was not sure if it was because of the little virus he had sent to the Jedi Master via his comm and using his own codes from his time on the Council – Mace hadn’t said anything – or if he had meditated on his stupid need to mould everyone who were, are, and will be, in the Order to fit a certain profile and have certain criteria.

But then again, he was sure the Korun Master would not say anything about the hundreds of hours of ‘ _buy a plushy, be a softie_ ’ publicity now encumbering all his comm’s frequencies, that would loudly and frequently remind him to go collect his command – he desperately hoped the alarm had at the very least rang once in the Council Chamber and once in the mess hall. Nor, thought Ben, would the man admit if his meditations had proved useful.

Jedi were not allowed revenge… but they encouraged learning new lessons every day, as Mace _learned_ very well.

Whatever the motivator for Mace Windu, it worked, and Ben had accepted the apologies and moved on.)

“Oh. Right,” Ben slowly replied, mind going a parsec per minute to find what he should say, and then, he skilfully evaded the question without raising the suspicions of the Korun Jedi Master. “With Yoda’s disappearance, we didn’t think about it. He stole Anakin’s ship.”

“ _And how’s Skywalker reacting?_ ”

Ben winced.

“He’s on the warpath.”

“ _Yes, I can imagine._ ”

“No, no,” denied Ben. “You really can’t.”

¤

“We heard you have a problem, Sir. About finding the _Trollitch_.”

They were the first words out of Cody’s mouth this morning, as he entered Ben’s office to take his place near the door.

“I see… And yes,” he nodded in response, tiredly passing a hand over his seemingly dry and gritty eyes.

“Then, we are here to offer our help,” Cody stated in his no-nonsense voice.

“What?” Ben asked in surprise, raising his head to look at his friend who was dressed in civilian clothes – it was still a shock, even after a year, each time he looked, to not see the clones with their white armour on; but it was a good shock, that made him internally smile.

“Some of the clones have considered and tried their hands at the careers offered on Tython,” Cody explained. “But some of us are really comfortable doing something regarding security, as a military force, or just a security one. If we had some of the clones following this path, we could send some after the _Trollitch_.”

“And you would be ready to take on such a dangerous job in security?”

“All living persons are doing something dangerous, Sir, if they do not know what they are doing. With our background, we are better equipped than most to undertake a job in security. And, we have been given the choice to choose our own path, Sir.”

“… Yes. And some of you would be ready and happy to do that?” Ben questioned, wanting to be unconditionally sure about this path.

“Absolutely,” Cody confirmed with a nod.

“You have a recommendation in mind for a Chief Officer, I think. Who is it?”

“Rex, Sir.”

“Hmm,” he thought for a few seconds, stroking his chin, eyes far away, before they came back on Cody. “What about you, Cody? Do you want to go into security?”

“I will be happy to continue as your own guard.”

“… You do know I did not choose this, don’t you? It’s all Mayor Shakaa’s fault. I don’t need a guard; I am quite capable of defending myself and others if the need arises.”

“You are important. And being your guard is a good job in security. I am happy, Sir.”

“You know what?” Ben asked suddenly, the idea hitting him out of nowhere. He straightened in his chair and looked intensely at his past and – he hoped so at the very least – future friend. “I make you High General Cody Vodetti, Chief Officer of all military forces of Tython. You will participate at all meetings about the planet between the interested parties from now on – mainly me and the Mayor at the moment – and you will organise all personnel that choose to pursue a career in the military. Like that, it will give you free reign about the organisation and who you want to surround yourself with. What do you think?”

“…”

“Yes…” Ben said slowly, observing the dumbstruck look on Cody’s face. “I will let you decide. In the meantime, I will talk about it with Mayor Shakaa. In case you accept.”

“…”

“Right. Later, Cody,” he said with a little wave of his hand and beaming at the man.

He sauntered out of his own office.

Making a clone a High General gave him the feeling he was doing something significant – and made him feel quite good about giving Cody the title he himself had once used. It would be absolutely exceptional for the rest of the galaxy, but if the truth about the clones went out, to see one such as him with a military rank this high would make most of the people stop talking negatively around the clone in question.

It would also stop Ben from taking one step in the military, with a trusted man already at the post. Once in his past life, had been one too many. It was time to pass the mantle to those who accepted it without disdain, who would make it seem easy to handle and who would find some measure of contentment and happiness in it.

Cody would be great.

And he had no doubt Rex would be making the higher echelons of the military in no time at all, if Cody had anything to say about it.

(And it would stop all this _nonsense_ about him having a _guard_ , of all things. Anakin hadn’t stopped laughing at that one, yet.)

¤

“ _Did you find Yoda?_ ”

“No,” he sighed.

His conversations with Mace always began with the same question and he was starting to get annoyed to have to give the same answer each time. He could understand the concern the Master felt, but it wasn’t like they could do something about it without any leads to go on!

Mace nodded, but did not add anything else.

Ben thanked the Force for small mercies.

“ _By the way, thank you for having finally sent Kenobi and Skywalker away from Tython_.”

“You’re wel– _What_?” he stuttered, suddenly sitting ramrod straight in his chair.

Mace frowned at the sudden display, but Ben did not care for the sensibilities of the Jedi Master for the moment. What Master Windu had said… It made his heart abruptly beat faster in his chest, while the sound of his blood rushing in his veins made his ears ring, and the adrenalin flooding his body made his extremities tingle and move twitchily.

“ _I told you, thank you for finally having freed your younger counterparts from your hospitality,”_ the Korun Master repeated.

“Right,” Ben nodded like an old automat in need of some lubricant in his joints. “That. Who informed you, then?”

A suspicion and a Bad Feeling crept up along his back, leaving him with a mad theory.

“ _Master Yoda received their comm call._ ”

Right. _Mad theory_. It was right up his alley… And that of Yoda.

“I have to go,” all his restless energy was suddenly more than he could bear, and he needed to do something about it. “I’ll call you later, Mace.”

“ _Okay…_ ” the Jedi replied slowly, his frown becoming suddenly wary. “ _Let me know if you need help_.”

“Right, right,” he said and closed the comm.

He was on his feet, even before he had let the comm go from his hand.

¤

Anakin was looking at him like he had lost the last shred of his sanity.

And maybe he had, but he had the very, very, great notion that he was also very, very, right. And that… That was a problem, because Yoda the _Trollitch_ was not Yoda the Jedi Master anymore.

“Why not a comm call instead of going _there_? We just came back!” argued the ex-Sith Lord.

“I have to make sure, Anakin,” he explained patiently. “And for that, I have to sense his Force Aura.”

“Right. Can I stay here?” he sounded hopeful.

“I can’t go there alone. What would they say if I left you behind on some planet?”

“That you left me to a greatly needed vacation away from everyone?”

He frowned severely at his ex-Padawan.

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Anakin,” he answered back. “And… Please?”

“… fine,” he pouted and sighed. “I’ll go prepare. _Again_.”

“Thank you, old friend,” he beamed, even if it was a little strained.

¤

“Knight Kenobi,” a voice greeted him, once he was outside the ship.

He turned and found himself before Master Yaddle. Her skin was green again, and not grey with blood loss, and her hair was not caked with sweat, dirt and blood. She was alive.

Ben thanked the Force, for having given him this opportunity to save her.

Anakin shifted on the pad of his feet next to him, all restless energy and paranoia. He was also trying to avoid the gazes of everyone in the hangar. His movements were somewhat counter-productive to what he was trying to avoid, but Ben didn’t have the heart to tell him that. His old friend was doing him a favour at the moment, and so, he would not scold him for that.

“No child, you found in your Search?” Master Yaddle asked them.

Search? What?

Well… when confronted with unknown knowledge potentially dangerous to _not_ know, pretend to know everything like there is no tomorrow and act like it.

“… No,” he finally answered, after having decided on what to respond. “It seems the Order’s reputation is somewhat failing on the planet from where we come.”

From a certain point of view, what he was saying was entirely true. Nearly everywhere in the galaxy, the Jedi had a status that became more and more tarnished as the years passed; by the rumours of the people, by the inaction of the Jedi and by the Senate, who sent them to do their corrupt bidding.

Also, as they were coming from Tython on which the Jedi Order of Coruscant _did_ have a somewhat lacking reputation, what Ben said was the complete truth.

He so loved prevaricating in negotiations. It could save lives. And explanations, as it was.

“Sad, that is,” hummed thoughtfully the female Councillor. “But good it is, to see you. My thanks, I wanted to give you and your Padawan. For saving me.”

He bowed low to the Jedi Master in respect.

“No need, Master,” he replied with a slight smile. “It is good to see you up and about.”

She bowed back at him with a gentle smile.

“May the Force be with you, Knight Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker,” she said to him and ambled away before he could respond.

“Master,” whispered Anakin next to him. “I don’t like it.”

“Me neither, Padawan,” Ben murmured back, his lips barely moving. “It seems my suspicions tend to be correct for the moment. Time to make our way and determine how right I am.”

“Right,” was the low response.

They left the ship behind them in the hangar and made their way in the Temple proper.

¤

Ben knocked sharply on the door. He was jittery with nervous anticipation and Anakin was looking around him, in fear of being discovered.

The door opened and Master Yoda looked at them.

“Help, do you need, Knight Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker?” he asked.

They entered the apartment of the Master and Ben felt his right eyebrow rise after Yoda closed the door and sat himself in the comfortable-looking sofa. Nobody said anything; they just stared at each other.

“ _Force_ , Master!” suddenly exclaimed Ben, too wrung-out by the last days for a more even voice. “ _What_ are you doing here?!”

Yoda cackled.

And Anakin was left with his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

¤

/”Master Yoda!” he shouted. “Why did you bring us here without waking us?”

“Bring you here, did I?” was the sharp reply. “No such thing, I did, Obi-Wan! Left alone in this swamp, we have been, by unknown party.”

“Oh?” mumbled the Knight. “I was sure that… Well, then. Nothing, I guess.”

A groan echoed in the air as Anakin let himself fall in the wet mud coating the ground.

“Great,” the adolescent snorted in disdain. “We’re the delivery boys for the archaeologists and now, we have been kidnapped. Just what I needed, a miserable week turned into a miserable month.”

“Tython? The last thing you remember, it is?” asked the Grandmaster.

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan answered calmly, while ordering with only a look at his Padawan to put himself back in order. “We remember delivering the supplies, but nothing else after that.”

“Hurt, have you been?”

“Well, we woke up with a slight concussion.”

“Hmmm.”\

¤

“ _That_ is your Grand Plan?” Ben cried, exasperation rolling off him in waves.

“Put in order the Order, a Grand Plan, it is!” he replied, knocking sharply his gimer stick on the floor. “Conquer the galaxy, you may, Master Kenobi, and conquer the whole of the Jedi, I will!”

“But why did you kidnap our younger counterparts?”

“Order the Jedi from the inside, I will. No two Yoda, possible in this plan, it is. Grandmaster Yoda, I was, and Grandmaster Yoda, I will be again!”

“So what…” finally asked Anakin, who had remained silent until now (Ben didn’t know if it was because he was still in shock over what the diminutive Master did, or because he wanted to let Ben handle it, like he always did). “You will left the younger us… where are they, anyway?”

Yoda cackled. Ben rubbed his forehead with a bad feeling arising within him.

“On Dagobah, they are! Left me there for years, you have, so left them there, I have!”

Ben sighed and told himself he would stop trying to decipher his ‘ _bad feelings_ ’, because it wasn’t good for his mental health.

Meanwhile, Anakin had opened his mouth in mounting horror and was staring at Yoda like he was his own personal demon, out from some sort of hell to get to him.

His old friend was certainly imagining life without electronics, in a swampy world and with only Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda for company.

Ben couldn’t really sympathise with him on that point for the moment. He knew exactly what an exile on a remote planet with no one surrounding him could do to a person. He lived it for years. A third of his life wasted away like that… And he absolutely did not want to think about it.

“You won’t let them there for years, will you, Master?” asked Ben tiredly.

“Some month there, for them, will be good. Will stamp down any peeking Vader,” the diminutive Master pointed at Anakin with his stick, who himself sat straighter after that. “Will fortify Master/Padawan team,” he continued, this time pointing at Ben and Anakin, who threw a glance at each other with their eyebrows high on their foreheads. “And…” he took on a sad tone, reminiscent of the revered Master Yoda he was under his mad persona, and sighed wistfully. “Humble away an old soul, it will. Master Yoda needs it, he will, more than young Kenobi or young Skywalker.”

The three of them went silent then, reflecting about the words Yoda had uttered and about the next action they needed to take.

“What would you have us do, then, Master?” finally inquired Ben, when the silence could no longer calm his mind.

Yoda regained an impish smile that sent alarms bells in all corners of his mind.

“Why, need Knight Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker, I do!”

“I’m not sure I follow…” he began, feeling dread crawling up in his stomach.

“To Tython, you won’t return. Here, you must stay!”

“No!” Anakin burst out, standing up from his stiff position on a chair.

“I’m inclined to agree with Anakin on this, Master. It doesn’t seem like it is a very good idea.”

“Yeah, that’s because it’s a _terrible_ idea!” cried his old Padawan. “I can’t _act_ for crap, and you want me to act in front of _the whole Temple_!”

Ben frowned at the volume of his voice, but did not refute his words. Yoda would not really make them stay.

Would he?

¤

“I need to return to Tython to make sure everything will be taken care of. I don’t want to return to a settlement with problems cropping up everywhere.”

“And you want to leave me here?!” whispered-shouted Anakin, throwing a hand out to encompass the whole Jedi Temple in his gesture.

They were in their old apartment. Or, more like the apartment of a young Master/Padawan pair, named Kenobi and Skywalker. Ben had looked around and promptly decided that he needed to go away from here and only returned when his mind could handle it.

“Well…” he began and then, really thought about it. “No, you can come with me. We will organise everything on Tython and come back here.”

“How do you know I will accept to come back?” Anakin said sulkily, his arms crossed on his chest.

“Because you won’t let me to fend for myself here,” Ben was fast to answer.

¤

They had left Tython and their friends and companions with instructions to follow, while they would be absent. The mood on the return journey to the Temple was silent and moody. Anakin and he were brooding and cursing Yoda and his existence.

They arrived all too soon in the hangar of the Temple.

And were promptly met with half the Council at their exit from the ship.

“Masters?” Ben called to them, his eyebrow raised high in surprise at this assembly.

“Knight Kenobi,” they greeted him. “Padawan Skywalker,” they nodded.

Anakin and he stood awkwardly next to their ship and observed the Masters returning to their hushed discussion.

Something was going on.

“Is there a problem, Masters?” Ben finally asked.

They turned and stared at him, then exchanged looks between themselves. _What_ was going on? They had only been away for a few days to arrange their affairs on Tython.

“No, there’s no problem,” finally intoned Master Windu, his tone firm and closed-off.

Someone snorted. Ben thought it was the Lannik Master Even Piell.

“Nothing is wrong, per say,” Master Plo Koon stated, his arms crossing against his chest, while throwing a glare behind his goggles at the Lannik Master. “Unusual. Master Yoda has gone on a mission.”

Ben felt his stomach clench.

“' _On a mission_ '?” he repeated slowly.

He should have knocked out that troll! That same damned troll that kept doing very irregular things and trying to send him to an early funeral pyre!

Master Koon nodded. It was Master Depa Billaba that continued, when the Kel Dor fell silent.

“With his Padawan.”

Anakin choked next to him.

And Ben nearly fainted right then and there, when he mentally facepalmed himself with enough force to make him wish it could send him in a coma – or return him to the Force.

His weeks were getting worse.

¤

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay people, I think that from now on, the next chapters will not be posted with the regularity of before. I'll be a little more occupied in the weeks to come (but do not despair, because some of the chapters are already partially written and will be posted! I just don't know when.).
> 
> Thank you again to you all, for all your support!


	8. (26 BBY, part III)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well people, I just wanted to say THANK YOU ALL for all of you that are reading this fic! You rock!
> 
> And for you all, here is the next chapter!

¤

**(26 BBY, part III)**

¤

Ben was at that point where tearing his hairs off his head was becoming a sure way to rid himself of all this stress.

He had tried his best to intervene with the Council and tried to be sent after Yoda, but apparently, he was only a lowly Knight and _why was he now questioning the collective wisdom of the High Council?_

What wisdom? He had retorted snidely in his private thoughts.

(But not private enough, because Qui-Gon had heard him and had been so _proud_ of his questioning the Council, that the ghost had given him a headache with the Force swirling joyfully around him like an overgrown purring cat.)

He had stopped arguing with the Masters of the Council, when Mace Windu had sent him a suspicious look. So suspicious the look had been in fact, that he was surprised he had not yet seen the Master of the Order at his door, asking questions about his identity and demanding to know if he really was Obi-Wan Kenobi, Knight, or Ben Kenobi, mad Ambassador of Tython.

(After a year of communicating with the man, he knew that Mace knew him, or was, at least, beginning to understand him.)

Near him, Anakin was pacing and creating a hole in the living room of the apartment of the Kenobi/Skywalker duo.

“They haven’t changed,” the ex-Sith Lord growled lowly in his throat. “They are just as stupid now as they were back then! And they haven’t an Obi-Wan Kenobi in their midst to try to mitigate their stupidity!”

“Why, thank you, Anakin!” Ben beamed at his old apprentice. “That was very nice of you to compliment me, even while insulting the Council. I appreciate your faith in me!”

Anakin snorted and waved away the reply.

“Did you at least get who he took as his Padawan?”

“No,” Ben answered with a frown and a irritated downward turn of his mouth. “I, _apparently_ , was beginning to sound too much like Master Jinn to be taken seriously when I was asking questions.”

His old friend halted his pacing, turned and gave him all of his intense attention.

“What does that mean? Master Qui-Gon was a great Jedi!”

“Ha!” Ben scoffed, because he knew better. “Yes, he was. And he was a very great pain in the butt of the Council! He wasn’t called _Maverick_ for nothing, Anakin.”

“You know, that’s something I never understood. You were his Padawan and yet, you… well, you’re _you_. You always respected the Council and followed the rules.”

Ben raised an eyebrow at Anakin.

“I always had the approval of the Council, you mean? Old friend, how do you think I became ‘ _the Negotiator_ ’? I had plenty of opportunity to test my skills. Is it my fault, if an application of sound logic and neatly made arguments in favour of whatever cause I chose, made the Council tend in my favour? Of course not. It is because the Masters of the Council have a brain and can use it. If we present them the problem under a favourable light, with a favourable outcome.”

“You are one sneaky –”

“Finish that sentence and I will trounce you in the salles, Anakin. To come back on the topic of Master Jinn, we can’t all be rampaging gundarks with only one goal in mind, without lending a thought to the consequences of that one argument, discussion or action against the Council.”

_Traitor_ , whispered his Master in his ear, but the tone was all fondness. _I did not raise you to make fun of me once dead, Padawan Mine._

_Did you?_ Ben responded with an airy tone. _I thought I was raised to know how to insult everyone in subtle ways with you._

_You learned negotiations, not how to insult. And what you said, that was the opposite of subtle._

_I thought negotiating was about insulting everyone without seemingly doing so and ensuring that the wrath of the opposition did not fall on us._

_You are too cheeky for your own good, Obi-Wan._

But Qui-Gon was laughing.

“So…” Anakin was saying. “You’re telling me that you are glad that you didn’t take much after Master Qui-Gon.”

“I did not say that, Anakin.”

“No, but you did!” he exclaimed in apparent delight. “So, when I say: I’m really glad I did not take after you, it’s not actually mean!”

“Anakin,” he sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes in exasperation.

It was so good to know how an apprenticeship of ten years and a subsequent partnership of near four years had an impact on the ex-Sith Lord.

Well, he comforted himself. If he couldn’t take credit for the person Anakin had become, he couldn’t take credit for his sithly tendencies too.

¤

/“Shiiii –”

_SPLASH._

It was not the first time, nor would it be the last, that Anakin fell in a mud pond, head diving first in the odorous water.

Obi-Wan restrained a giggling laugh by putting a hand before his mouth and biting his lips. It was more hysterical than anything else and his Padawan did not need his reaction on top of everything else.

“Good for the skin, mud is, Padawan Skywalker,” announced Master Yoda from his perch, higher than them, as he was walking, or maybe jumping, from branch to branch in the trees.

The Knight bit his tongue to keep from snickering.

(It was impolite and so uncivilised.)

Obi-Wan regretted not being smaller for once, as he would have preferred the refuge of the trees to the annoyance of the mud soaking all his clothes. Even his boots were not much of a protection anymore after a while walking through the swamp.\

¤

“That’s a Wookie,” were the first words Anakin said, once they got on the landing pad of the Temple to meet with the new team that came back from an unknown mission.

Ben wanted to slap him upside the head for the tactless remark of his old friend, but he was himself speechless. And trying to wrap his mind around the fact that it was, indeed, a Wookie. And a very young one at that. Ben wasn’t sure the youngling had even passed the mark of ten years, let alone thirteen.

“I don’t speak wookie,” continued Anakin.

His voice had taken on a strange tone. Like he was fretting. Ben frowned and threw a glance at the ex-Sith Lord. His old Padawan was not prone to fretful fits.

“Are you alright, old friend?” he asked, a little concerned by the behaviour of Anakin. “And it’s shyriiwook, the language of the Wookies.”

“Obi-Wan,” was the whispered-shouted response he gave. “That’s a Wookie! Why is it a Wookie?”

“What are you getting at, Anakin?” Ben demanded to know with a slow and careful pronunciation of each word, his forehead crunching in confusion.

“That’s Yoda’s vengeance,” was the quick-as-a-flash explanation.

The by-rot response of “Jedi do not seek vengeance” was thought of and then discarded and forgotten in the following silence. Ben waited for Anakin to continue. Fortunately, he did not have long to wait.

“That’s Yoda’s way of freeing the slaves, like you did. The Wookies were the slaves of the Empire and with a Wookie Padawan, he will teach him how to influence his Wookie people to rebel!”

“Well… How is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know. I just… I can’t help but imagine that he wants to do something with Chewbacca and that vile _sleemo_ Solo, that my _daughter_ was _dating_ … to get back at me… through his new Padawan…” he was spitting his words with a certain vehemence, which was familiar to Ben.

“Is it your usual paranoia speaking or your Sith paranoia, finding enemies everywhere, where there is none?” Ben asked, after having thought about it for a few seconds.

(He was sure it was the second, but he would not let it pass his lips, lest Anakin threw another sithly temper tantrum.)

“Of course, you wouldn’t take me seriously,” Anakin grumbled, and looked back at Yoda and the Wookie, who were speaking with some Masters of the Council.

¤

/“I know I eat bugs, but that… that is… uuuuurgh!”

“Yes,” he was answering his Padawan, eyes never leaving the wooden bowl that his hands were holding.

Inside it, there was the soup of Master Yoda – it had been the turn of the diminutive Master to make the meal for the three of them – and Obi-Wan was eyeing it with disgusted fascination. Because there were _things_ that were _crawling_ in it. _Things_ that were _not dead_. As in, very much _alive_. And it was in his _meal_.

He wanted to throw up, but he didn’t want to lose the little food he had in his stomach and be forced to eat the soup in the bowl to keep his strength up.

He might have to go Dark if he was forced to eat that.

“Master!” muttered his teenage apprentice, sat on his left on a wooden log, and calling for his attention. “Master Yoda is observing us,” Anakin whispered to him near his ear.

He shuddered and did not risk raising his head to look at Master Yoda, or he knew it would only compel him to _try_ the _soup_ , to not disappoint the Grandmaster.

And no way in all Sith hells was he trying it.\

¤

“Knight Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker,” greeted Yoda.

Ben knew Yoda the _Trollitch_ well by now, to recognize the mischievous glint in the green orbs of the diminutive Master.

“Master,” he answered with a bow and forced Anakin to do the same, when he stayed still and observing the new Master/Padawan pair with a sort of creepy unblinking concentration. “Padawan,” he added to the Wookie behind Yoda.

“My new Padawan, that is. Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, here to meet you, Padawan Gungi is,” Yoda presented the new addition to them. “Padawan, if need help, to Kenobi and Skywalker, you’ll go. From the same lineage, we all are.”

The Wookie Padawan growled something enthusiastic that Ben knew was a joyous ‘ _Nice to meet you!_ ’, but he was more concerned for the moment with Anakin, who had seemed to withdraw into himself after a revelation had floated into his mind.

“Padawan?” he called his old friend. “Anakin?”

“Do you know a Chewbacca?” Anakin finally asked the new Padawan, tone strained behind a polite veneer.

Ben wanted to roll his eyes at the question. His old friend really was paran –

_Howl_. (Yes.)

– well. That was certainly not what he had been waiting for.

“ _He’s my cousin!_ ” Gungi continued to reply brightly.

Good Force.

Was Yoda _cackling_? Was all this really premeditated by the _Trollitch_ Jedi Master? Had Anakin been _right_ to be paranoid?

… Was he really more outraged by _Anakin being right_ than by _Yoda’s planning_?

¤

/”I hate swamps!” yelled Anakin, making a few insects fly away from the nearby surroundings in fright.

“I thought you hated deserts?” retorted Obi-Wan and slapping a hand against his thigh where something was trying to crawl up his legs – Force, he didn’t want to think about it!

He knew it was not a good idea to look at the wildlife that was trying to eat him, or crawl on him to make a nest. He learned that lesson very early the second day of their stay on the swamp planet, when something had been found rolling in his hairs. The thought of it gave him chills still.

“Yes! And swamps too!”

“Look at the bright side of things, Padawan,” Obi-Wan was trying to sound comforting to his distraught apprentice. “We have water.”

“You mean, we have contaminated water that stinks like there are dead people in it!” was Anakin’s answer, full of scorn.

“Not people exactly, but certainly insects and microbes and others parasites,” he argued. “We are in a swamp, after all.”

Anakin took on a green tint and paused in his action of putting a foot on the wet, muddy and squishy ground.

“That’s really disgusting.”

They continued to walk in silence for a few minutes.

“I think Master Yoda is really appreciating the place,” Anakin said a while later, and Obi-Wan knew that his teenage apprentice did not care for the buzzing of insects in his ears that ‘ _was going to drive him crazy_ ’ and preferred to speak to hear the sound of their voices instead of the flying animals. “Which is really not surprising, if we consider how he like swamp stew.”

“Indeed,” Obi-Wan answered, stroking his chin that had begun to sprout auburn hairs. “It may be because the place is very abundant in life and with the Living Force. It is a nice change, because Coruscant is all building and pollution. And maybe he thinks that putting live insects in his stew is a way to better commune with the Living Force.”

“That’s even more disgusting! How do you even think of a theory like that, Master?” wondered Anakin with a scowl and a grimace. “And I think I prefer Coruscant,” was the muttered response of his Padawan, as he was stomping on a deeper patch of mud, his boot staying stuck in it. “I will find the way to put the planet on fire before we get away from here, I swear it!”

“Now, Anakin, no need for such extreme measures,” reproached Obi-Wan gently.

“You’ll be saying it too in no time, Master,” was the flat reply.

He de-stuck his boot after that and promptly fell on his face in the mud.\

¤

The howls disturbed him. He didn’t even know why. Maybe he associated too much the Wookies to slavery to appreciate them? Maybe Wookies made him think about his time as a slave _and_ a Sith Lord? Whatever the reason, he was more than uncomfortable at the moment, but his Master had found that it would be a good idea for him to take Gungi under his wing, to ‘ _mitigate the ‘_ Yoda the _Trollitch_ _’ effect_ ’.

Obi-Wan had certainly a few screws lose, if he really thought an ex-Sith Lord was a better influence than a Master Jedi of the calibre of Yoda, even if he was a damn _Trollitch_.

(The poor Gungi had already learned that howling to the death was a fun way to terrify people, while a mastermind of clever plans would cackle behind them to make them run away faster.

He was also now finding that talking backward in shyriiwook was _normal_.)

His own Master had not been impressed, if he had to consider by the flat expression on his face and the raised eyebrow above his right eye.)

The hairy Padawan was very young and the Padawan of Yoda. Would he be the Padawan of the ‘ _real’_ Master Yoda? Or would he stay with Yoda the _Trollitch_? Did even Yoda the _Trollitch_ _know_ the answer? Did Obi-Wan?

Whatever. He was not the one to deal with all these problems, Obi-Wan was here for that, as he was definitely better to handle discussion, arguments and all those political navigation through debate and diplomacy. He, ex-Sith Lord, was just good to be pointed at someone or something and be made to put an end to it. Which made him think…

He turned towards Gungi the Wookie and put on his most winning smile – which had a tendency to be creepy since his Sith days.

“Do you have a lightsaber form in mind already, Gungi?”

_Howl_.

“I see. And what is it?”

_Howl_ , _howl_ , _growl_.

Anakin blinked.

“Why would Master Yoda make you learn Ataru?!”

He imagined hairy Wookies flying overhead and stomping feet landing everywhere. Nope, not possible. He had to rectify that error with alacrity.

“Maybe Djem So would be more advantageous for you, don’t you think? You will grow up and become one of the tallest Jedi –”

(With the smallest Master there was in the entire Order, he thought, snickering at the mental image. He was seeing it in his mind’s eye: a giant hairy Wookie with a mini Yoda on his shoulder.

Ooh! That was it!

Yoda took a Wookie Padawan because he wanted to _dominate_ them with a higher position and look down at them!)

“– and a form accommodating your future more powerful and bigger build would maybe be better.”

He would corrupt Gungi before Yoda the _Trollitch_ would do it, damnit! See who would have the last laugh!

¤

#“Where are they?” she asked as she stormed inside the office of Master Ben, her white hair flying messily everywhere over her shoulders.

“I do not know, Mistress Ventress,” Aid was answering the dathomirian, turning from the work he had been doing. “But we cannot seem to get a hold of them on the comms. If they are tracking down the _Trollitch_ , they might be running into problems.”

“We need them here!”

“I do know that, but maybe we can find a solution ourselves,” he offered in the hope of calming her. “What is the problem exactly?”

“Count Dooku is calling incessantly. Ava Sen wants to take more Kaminoans with him on Tython. Savage is stressed because of the great affluence of younglings, and is running ragged (I think I saw him _crying_ with the younglings!). The clones have some problems with organising themselves in a semblance of hierarchy for their military and ‘ _fistfight_ ’ is the word of the moment. The population on the planet seems to have doubled since the departure of the Ambassador and we have no places to put them in. Feral and Mayor Shakaa seemed to have lost their mind to stress. Jango Fett is incommunicado, and we are receiving each day new petitions of planets, which want to enter the Coalition. _What_ doesn’t seem to be the problem?!”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘ _oh’_!” she cried, while sneering at the droid.#

¤

“When do we return to Tython, Master?” was the first question out of Anakin’s mouth that day, after he let out a deep, deep, sigh of aggravation.

They were being punished and forced to work under the hard glare of Madame Nu in the Archives. The ones nobody cared about and nobody had visited in years, even the droids, if the quantity of accumulated dust was any indication.

Ben scoffed at the thought. It wasn’t his fault if Anakin had made Gungi learned how to talk-growl backward _Massassi_! He wasn’t Anakin’s guardian! Well, unofficially he wasn’t, as Anakin was a forty something (or was it fifty?) year old man. And Yoda knew it very well.

“When we can extricate ourselves from this situation,” he answered, somewhat waspishly.

Anakin scowled and crossed his arms on his chest.

“Well, it’s not my fault.”

Ben stared impassibly at his old friend.

“Okay, well, not _totally_ my fault.”

Ben kept the glare and raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine! It _is_ totally my fault!” The ex-Sith Lord cried, while throwing his hands in the air. “But backward massassi is infinitely better than backward shyriiwook! And it’s not as if it entirely worked. Gungi can’t make his throat do some sounds.”

“I can’t believe you made him learn a Sith language, Anakin!”

“I was bored!”

¤

/“Strong, the Dark Side is, in this cave. Not inside, we will go. Find another one, to rest, we must.”

“Master…” Obi-Wan trailed off, his eyes never leaving the dark entrance of the cave. “I think something is calling us inside.”

_Thwack_.

“Ow!” the Knight grimaced and began knitting his hurting foot with his fingers.

“The Dark Side, that is, Knight Kenobi! Go inside, we will not!”

“Yes, of course. My apologies, Master,” he bowed to the Grandmaster and looked behind him. “Anakin?”

Except his teenage apprentice was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and ruffled his auburn and messy hairs in frustration. Between the see-sawing mood of his Padawan and the incessant grumblings of his great-grandmaster, he had had no second to fall into self-pity as he really wanted to, since they had been marooned on a swamp planet.

“Now, where is that insolent brat?” he muttered.

“NO!”

Obi-Wan whipped his head around. The yell had come from the cave and had been from Anakin. His eyes widened in realization and horror and he ran without a second thought inside the Dark Side grotto, hearing the harrumphing of Master Yoda behind him and the feet of the diminutive Master following after him.\

¤

/He woke up with a disgusting taste in his mouth and knew he had been a little heavy on his alcohol intake. Did he go drinking with Quinlan again? He didn’t remember. There were whispers around him and he knew he was the one they were talking about, even without understanding what the hushed words were.

He tried concentrating and was rewarded by his eyes blinking and the light of a sun harshly blinding him. He groaned his misery.

“That’s Mad Kenobi!” exclaimed someone.

Now, that was uncalled for, he thought. He wasn’t mad, just hungover.\

¤

-He was panting harshly and really terrified. It was wrong, it was all wrong! Where was he? It was hot and uncomfortable and he couldn’t move!

Where was his Master?

All was echoing around him and there was darkness and Darkness. His breaths were uneven and loud as if he was locked inside a container. As if he was dead.

The vast emptiness of the sands of Tatooine never did appeal to him more than at that very moment in time. And for one second, he regretted leaving his mother behind and his existence as a slave, because at least, as a slave, he more or less knew what tomorrow would bring. It was less terrifying than this feeling of impotence, where and when he couldn’t move or breathe correctly, and it was hot and cold and dark and all around him and inside him was Dark.

He could do nothing but listen to his harsh and _loud_ – so very _loud_ – sounding breaths.-

¤

+The Force was Dark and grieving. And he was alone on this planet. Alone and mourning. Sad and betrayed, by the Force. By the livings and the deads.

He didn’t understand. What was there to understand? It was the end. It had been the end for years. The Dark had been patient and persistent and was now like a great weight on his chest, making it difficult to think, or meditate or to simply breathe.

Living had never been so insipid before.+

¤

/The place was dusty, hot and the odour of body sweat permeated the air, making it heavy and disagreeable.

“Hello there,” he greeted the barman behind the counter and sat down on a bar stool. “Would you mind terribly if I asked a few questions?”

“ _Why don’t you return in your hovel_ , _hermit_?” was the answer. In huttese. “ _Mos Eisley doesn’t need more madness with you here_ ,” the barman growled.

Mos Eisley? Force… Was he on Tatooine?\

¤

-Breathing was good. In. Out. It was just _so difficult_! _Why_ was it so difficult?

“My Lord.”

No. Nope. Breathing. In and out.

“Lord Vader. The Emperor is on the comm.”

_What_ Empero – no, no, he was not thinking or awake. He was just breathing. In and out.-

¤

+The wooden hut was cleverly hidden by the roots of a gigantic tree. And it was raining, making the mud inflate and then, squish under his feet.

_Obi-Wan is learning. I think he will make contact with me in little time._

He turned his head and was both astonished and not, at seeing Qui-Gon Jinn in blue transparent form, sitting on a log like he was at home.

“Qui-Gon?”

Was this the Force? Was he finally a part of the cosmic energy?+

¤

/He was parched. He did not know it was possible to be so hot and dry on an inhabitable planet.

He thought he was also hallucinating, because it seemed like Master A'Sharad Hett was standing in front of him.

Was the Tusken pointing a lightsaber at him?\

¤

-His fist was closed and the Force was rolling and thundering in Darkness and in his ear and his head, and in front of him, kneeling at his feet, was a man in a grey military uniform. He was holding his throat and choking, but no sound came from him.

He released his fist abruptly and the man fell on his hands, breathing too loudly.

No. It was _him_ that was breathing _too loudly_.

In. Out.-

¤

+Meditations did not bring peace. Peace was not achievable by the Force anymore. But peace could be made and attained via other lifeforms. Trees and life were of the Force, were peace.

Mixing his existence with them would bring him peace.+

¤

/He was alone in the sand dunes and the Force was the ever-present witness to his solitude.\

¤

-He was alone in a metal suit and the Dark was his only ally.-

¤

+He was alone amidst the trees and the insects. The Light was his only companion.+

¤

“Tampering with their memories? Isn’t that dangerous?” questioned Ben.

“Too much knowledge, dangerous it is!” countered Yoda with sharp words and a sharper tone. “Better for them, for us, to make them forget some things and learn others.”

“I… am not sure that I agree with that,” he hesitated and then, tensed his shoulders in a defensive attitude. “I can understand the need to do so, but they are our younger selves. And we already have Master Windu with this knowledge.”

“And in constant contact with the Sith Lord, they are!” the diminutive Master argued, whacking his gimmer stick on the metal floor of the ship. The sound resonated in the entire vessel. “Without our knowledge of the Force or cloaking abilities, they are. Let them at his mercy, would you? And Master Windu, an advantage he has.”

(Ben knew it was because the Korun Master was knowledgeable in channelling dark feelings into light. And he also knew, somewhere in his mind, that making Master Yoda, Knight Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker would be a terrible idea. They would want to act immediately and Ben knew that with the Sith Master, it was a game of waiting and counter-measures. Yoda and he had learned to be patient and knew better than anyone else the importance of that.)

“No, of course not, but Master Yoda _is_ Master Yoda…” he trailed off, but his companions had understood his meaning.

“And learning something new every day we are, even old Master Yoda can _and will_. Think you, that nothing, I learned on Dagobah, with your old Master? Not prepared, they are now! Not even Master Yoda!”

“I know you did learn, like I know I did. I know all of that. I don’t know why I protest.” He sighed and passed a hand over his forehead, while briefly closing his eyes in exhaustion. “Very well. We will need to do it quickly, then. Anakin will lend us his power and we will do the more meticulous work.”

“I think I just heard some veiled comment about my unsuitability for subtle work,” remarked Anakin, who was sprawled on his back, on the metal bench of the ship, eyes closed. “I do not like it.”

“If I wanted to be subtle, Anakin,” retorted Ben with a raised eyebrow in the direction of the ex-Sith Lord – who, sometimes, took to speak a little more formally; Ben had noticed it was something Anakin did more and more with the years that passed and he grew up, and also when he was in one of his Sith mood, as he called them. “You wouldn’t know I was insulting you.”

His old friend stuck out his tongue.

And then, there were the moments were Anakin was nothing but a child still. Ben was more exasperated by the childish side of him, than by his Sith side.

He didn’t know what that made him, preferring a Sith to a child… He tried not to think too much about it.

¤

They had found their three counterparts inside a cavern reeking of the Dark Side, once they had disembarked from their ship.

Acknowledging the cave and the feel of it with more fatigue than fear as they were all very familiar with the feel of the Dark Side, they had entered it and found the three Jedi unconscious and in nightmares of Darkness. They hadn’t even need to knock them out.

¤

The implantations of memories and the blurring of others took time and efforts.

By the time they were finished with Master Yoda – who, they were hoping, would not be too confused about the new Padawan now installed in his quarters – they were sore and tired and decided that maybe a quick concussion with a faulty memory would be better than to make again this effort of implanting memories with Knight Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker. Well, it was mainly Anakin’s argument, which Ben entertained for the better part of a minute and a half, before shaking his head and returning to Yoda’s side and preparing again for the ritual.

Manipulating Knight Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker memories was vastly easier, however. Maybe it was because they didn’t have the nine hundred years of life behind them, and maybe it was because they weren’t near the level of mastery Yoda had attained centuries ago. Whatever the cause, they were thankful for it and did not stay more than was _necessary_ in the Temple and on Coruscant. Too many people, too many Siths and too many ways to be discovered.

(The _necessity_ was that Ben insisted in seeing Master Windu and telling him all that came to pass these last few weeks. The purpling of his face when he had been told, had been fascinating to watch, but Ben had taken to try and save his ears from a tongue-lashing by the Master of the Order, and had fairly walked away very quickly towards their ship.

He had not been fleeing, whatever Anakin may think!

They were gone before Mace could so much as regain his equilibrium. Thank the Force for small mercies.)

¤

#”They are back!” cried a gleeful Asajj Ventress, as she entered the office of Mayor Ren Shakaa.

The man sighed and his shoulders slumped with deep relief. She was sure he was as grateful as she was, because they were swarmed from every side by work and demands and requests and _more work_ that never ended!

Master Ben was finally back and all would be well now – and she would _finally_ be free to go back to her spying mission on the hutts. Never would she volunteer for administrative work ever again! It had never been like this, when she had been at the head of Rattatak. But then again, killing pirates was not very paper-demanding.#

¤

They were finally free of all the nonsense of the Jedi and the Coruscant Temple and back on their own planet. Tython had never looked more beautiful from space than at that moment, and Ben let out a deep breath of fatigue and contentment.

Next to him, Anakin was slumping with relief too – finally free of Jedi of the Coruscant Order everywhere he looked – while Yoda was humming and meditating. It was the first time that he saw the diminutive Master this relaxed. He looked more like the Jedi Master he had once been than the _Trollitch_ at that moment. Maybe the trip to Coruscant and all of the consequences had been good for Master Yoda.

Anakin engaged the manual manoeuvres for the touchdown of the ship in the spaceport and Ben looked through the transparisteel and saw the buildings with more detailed the more they were near the ground.

He could also see the gaggle of people waiting.

For their ship.

For them.

For _him_.

A sudden chill ran up his back and he knew without needing the Force to search for answers, that his problems were far from over.

Oh Force, it would never end, would it?

¤

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I took some liberties from canon, but: fanfic! I do what I want! Heh!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!


	9. (25 BBY)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People, after two months of nothing, here it comes, the following chapter! Thank you everyone who keep on coming to read my fic, you always make me happy!
> 
> Also, 7k for this chapter, to apologize for the weeks without one! ;-)
> 
> Enjoy!

¤

**(25 BBY)**

¤

“ _I hear you went on quite the adventure, lately._ ”

“It seems rumours have a tendency to leave the planet around here.”

“ _Do not be mad, Ben. Your apprentices seemed so lost when I tried to contact you, some weeks ago, and they needed someone to talk to, I suppose._ ”

Ben raised an eyebrow in suspicion. If Dooku learned some of his more… pro-active actions, there would be heads rolling.

Also… He certainly could not imagine Dooku as a sort of counsellor. The man positively breathed: ‘ _emotions and complaints are for the weak_ ’.

“I really do not know why they were so lost,” he finally answered. “It is not as if my very presence is necessary for their own live to keep going on. Their problems were nowhere near complicated enough to require me in person.”

“ _Well, it is always different and difficult, when someone is following and suddenly is thrown to the front and leading. It can be quite confusing._ ”

“Yes, yes,” Ben answered waving a hand. “I know that, but really, how choosing a menu for the next week for the younglings is my problem to oversee? They did that very well before I went on my _adventure_ and they were fine; now, they seemed to have a problem to decide which menu is better on their own and keep asking for my opinion.”

“ _Because you are a crutch upon which all of them rely on. Maybe you should make them learn to be more independent. And from my perspective, it is their way to make you busy enough on planet, so you won’t find another adventure to go on and you will be obligated to stay on Tython. It is the sort of action a parent has to contend himself with, with his or her children, when they are…_ clinging _to his person._ ”

Ben sighed in a helpless sort of way after that response, because it was… what was going on. How did he not see this before? He had raised a boy years ago, he knew all too well what the signs were. And he knew Anakin had to have been one of the worst one to raise.

“I thought I was already doing that, preparing them to be independent,” he muttered behind his fingers, which were stroking his beard and passing over his mouth. “And I am not their parent. Even if I do feel like it, sometimes.”

He sighed despondently and slumped a little in his seat.

“I have the impression of doing a better job of making sure the planets of the Coalition are independent, than of my own apprentices.”

“ _On that point,_ ” Dooku primly said with an eyebrow raised on his forehead. “ _There is no doubt. The planets in your alliance seem to get better with each passing weeks. I cannot say the same for your apprentices._ ”

Ben grimaced and shot a fake wounded look at the Count.

“I did not need the confirmation, but thank you for your wisdom, Count.”

“ _Why, you are most welcome, Ambassador,_ ” replied Dooku with a smug little smile playing around his lips.

¤

“Master, I acquired an apprentice and I require help from you to train him.”

That was the first sentence that Asajj told him since he was back on Tython. She had first sulked without a word and then she simply got off planet to sulk away from him.

He looked down from where he had been stargazing and blinked in slow motion, turning the words in his head to make sense of them.

In front of him, Asajj was standing, arms crossed on her chest, looking defiantly at him, her lips pursed, certainly in apparent condemnation of something he was doing, which was nothing. Apart from thinking and looking at the clear night sky and the stars dotting it, that is. Next to his not-apprentice-anymore, was a youngling, clearly a little suspicious and a lot overwhelmed. The young human, as the youngling was appearance-wise, was also very clearly _not_ Force-Sensitive.

“Hello, child,” he greeted the little one, because he was polite, even in the face of odd events and odder and concerning behaviour from those who he personally knew. “Welcome to Tython. You have decided to stay here, then?”

Asajj looked like she wanted to answer for the human, but Ben threw her a sharp look and she stayed silent, even if her lips were pinched in frustration.

“I have,” finally answered the young one and his all but false confidence reminded him of something from his old life, but he could not remember what.

“Did my old apprentice tell you what sort of apprenticeship she wanted to take you for?”

“Yes,” the child nodded. “She said she would make me learn how to be better, smarter, faster than anyone, so I would not be beaten anymore.”

“Beaten?” Ben sharply asked and looked at Asajj, before returning his gaze to the youngling, waiting for an explanation.

“I don’t have a family and I was alone in Coronet City,” he said, as if that explained everything.

It sort of did. Ben could read between the lines.

“You are from Corellia?”

“Yes.”

Something inside his chest clenched and a niggling suspicion formed at the back of his mind. He cocked his head to the side and took in the child: his appearance, his look of determination barely hiding his fear and his own suspicions, and beneath all of the nonchalance the young one was trying to transmit to everyone who would look his way, there was hope. A vast amount of hope, not yet completely tarnished by years of difficult living.

Ben knew that aura, that look of defiance and that refusal to bow down to anyone.

“What is your name, child?”

The little one took his moment to stare Ben down too. He did his own observations and when he had his conclusions, some of the defiance started to melt away from his rigid posture.

“My name is Han.”

¤

“He is not Force-Sensitive,” he was finding himself saying to an obstinate Asajj, some hours later, after they had found a room for little Han to sleep in.

And wasn’t that a shock? The Force sure had Its way and Its humour. Future Han Solo, all of seven years and already a defiant and stubborn human, in the face of adversity.

He would not be the one to tell the news to Anakin, he did not want a Sith tantrum. Maybe he could send him on a mission for a few weeks to keep him off Tython? The Ex-Sith Lord would be insufferable if he learned of the presence of Han on the planet. It had already been an ordeal with Gungi, who was indirectly linked to the now youngling Han by way of Chewbacca; Han, who had not even met Chewbacca the Wookie yet. He knew Anakin would not care one bit.

“And?” asked Asajj, which made him come back to the problem at hand.

Ben frowned.

“I thought you would want to have a Force-Sensitive apprentice?”

“Yes, I would like that. But I can have Han and another one. I can have more than one. Like you have.”

Ben opened his mouth and closed it, when nothing came to mind. He had been trying to say only one apprentice was accepted in a normal Master/Padawan relationship, when he had been forcibly reminded by his own conscious, that he did not even follow the same precept, what with him being the official Master to Asajj, Anakin and Feral, at one time.

Moreover, nothing said only Force-Sensitive people could be accepted in an apprenticeship. It was sort of unsaid and necessary, what with their skills in the Force to make these people learn how to use them; but following the Will of the Force, or even making a better galaxy, did not require Force skills. It simply demanded to be a good person. And, like he had learned with Anakin becoming Vader, it was not instinctive to everyone, but could be made to acquire by example and study.

Hm. If he was making a new sort of Master/Apprentice relationship in his Order, he would have to determine new ranks and rules.

“Are you sure about this responsibility, Asajj?”

“Yes,” she affirmed with a firm nod of her head. After a few seconds, she smirked in satisfaction. “I will make him learn how to spy and fight against the disgusting _worms_ , who are so against you.”

Oh.

Well.

He supposed it was some sort of poetic justice or irony from the Force, where, once upon a time in another lifetime, Han Solo had been spying and fighting _for_ the “worms” – Hutts.

¤

“Welcome to Tython, delegates of Kamino. I hope your journey was not too exhausting and that your stay here will be spent with good humour.”

“Thank you, Ambassador,” replied Ava Sen, who had been designed as the _defacto_ leader and speaker for the group of kaminoans now debarking from their ship.

When the entire group had set foot on the ground, Ben asked one Rex Vodetti to step forward. The man had been chosen to be the armed guard of the kaminoans.

There were many reasons why Ben had chosen Rex to be it: one, to show to all people of Kamino, how the clones were when free and not trained as cannon fodder; two, to show the kaminoans that they were welcome on Tython, but they were not free to wander everywhere as they pleased; and three, if they were hoping from some consideration or manipulation from the clones they “gave life to”, Rex would be more than happy to put his foot down. Literally and on the guests. To stamp them into the ground, so they would become one with it.

Ben also knew Rex would never do that. The man had a temper, but he was one of the higher ranked in their new military, and it was not for nothing: he knew very well when to keep his calm and when he was allowed a little leeway.

Ben was counting on it. To welcome new ambassadors on their planet was like a game and each party would be pushing to test the boundaries of their alliance, until all parties were sufficiently content with what they had.

(He was also aware of Cody and his request for Ben to keep Rex occupied for a time. He had not asked questions, because he did not think he really wanted the answers, but he was supposing that even Rex’s temper was a little volatile these days with the complete anarchy in their military ranks and that Cody was attempting to mitigate the fights by taking away one of the elements ready to go off at all times.

He didn’t understand how it could be the complete chaos, but there it was. The clones had been more than disciplined in their last life. Maybe it was that they were now free, without chips in their head and had been that way for a few years now. That had to have some consequences on their thought processes and development. Some of the younger ones even had no idea of how Kamino looked, because some of these clones had been too little for them to remember the ocean planet.

Little clones. It had been a marvel to see some of them at that age. Some of the scientists, biologists and physicians, with the help of Ava Sen, on the planet had even been working on a solution to the rapid aging of the clones. The little ones, who had been in the growing tanks when they had been received on Tython, had been easy to “correct”. The problem was still within the DNA of the older generations of the clones however, but for the moment, these ones were busy fighting and organising themselves, instead of bemoaning their unfortunate circumstances.

Ben was thankful for small mercies, if nothing else.

He was also considering interfering with the military if it continued to impede their effectiveness. Something in him told him an armed force would soon be needed and he didn’t want to be unprepared for a warning from the Force like this one.)

¤

“I don’t care about why, what or how, but next time you have the absolutely great idea of taking off from Tython for an undetermined amount of time, I am tying you down so you do. Not. Go. Away. Am I clear enough for you, Kenobi?”

“Why, Maul,” Ben responded with a sly smile on his lips. “I did not know you would like all that bondage.”

The zabrak threw an object at Ben, who deflected it without too much thought.

It had become their way of saying hello he supposed. Maul made a comment that proved he was a caring person under all of his Darkish tendencies, Ben would counter it by being extra flirty or sassy, to not make Maul feel too much self-conscious of his caring remarks, and then, the zabrak would throw something at him to show to everyone he was still intimidating and frightening and Ben would deflect the object, like it was an annoying insect.

“Why did you want to see me, my friend?” Ben asked when he was not in danger of being smashed anymore.

“I want an assistant.”

That silenced Ben for a moment, brows pulled together in a frown.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I want you to find me one.”

“You want me to find you an assistant. Really?”

“Yes.”

He let seconds passed them by.

“You know you can choose yourself who you want to have by your side. By your side, day by day, hours after hours, and for days on end sometimes.”

A fleeting look of chagrin appeared on Maul’s face, before his scowl returned, more present than usual.

“I don’t care for them. The one I chose.”

Ben thought that it was maybe because, in his infinite wisdom, or maybe in his Sith-raised mind, he chose those who were terrified of him and did whatever he told them to do. He knew for a fact – himself an example – that Maul subconsciously preferred people who were not so afraid and who would go head to head against him if the case demanded it.

Maul needed someone who challenged him and put him in his place.

“You want an assistant or an Apprentice, my friend?” he asked, because evidently, everyone and their family, wanted apprentices these days.

He wondered what he did to make them all want one.

“I supposed my Force skills are not to be taught to your students,” the zabrak sneered. “So, an assistant.”

“You are not a Sith anymore, Maul. If someone accepts a somewhat different apprenticeship from you, I can’t refuse them.”

“You will find someone for me then?”

“I will search, but you are the one who will have to find the right one.”

“Great,” muttered the zabrak. “Now get out,” he told Ben and threw an object to make him go out faster.

Ben rolled his eyes. The young ones these days… No respect for anyone.

¤

“That seems like a terrible, terrible, idea,” he was saying.

Anakin’s face was frowning in response. He looked as if the conversation was exasperating to him and he didn’t understand the answer he got, and Ben doubted his ex-Padawan really knew what it was that he was demanding.

( _Sacrificing, more like_ , a sarcastic part of him whispered snottily. He tried to not give it his attention.)

“Well,” Anakin began, his mouth open, but then seemed to lose the words he wanted to say and closed it. “Deal with it!” he finally thundered, brows pinched tight in frustration.

He felt the Force trembling in the room and sighed.

Anakin was not a Sith anymore, but it did not make him a Jedi, and his powers, like always, responded to his more volatile emotions. And evidently, this conversation they were having made him exasperated… Which made him angry, because he could not do something more productive. Which was: working on the new ships for their armed forces. The new ships Anakin had slaved away for weeks and weeks to design and then to find the materials for – and it had been quite the shock when some of the planets that he had planned to talk to for their entry in the Coalition were suddenly _in the Coalition_ without him _knowing about it_ ; the datapads were full of Anakin’s and Feral’s signatures for their acceptance in their Coalition and in exchange, Tython had access to materials not native to their own planet.

(He had always known that Anakin was more than capable of making deals and negotiations like he had made him learn while they were Master and Apprentice, but to actively see it in real life… Well, he had had to sit down for a few moments.

Because, of course, of all things the ex-Sith Lord had to learn, was how to make another party cave under his demands.

But not how to stay a Jedi.

And not how to stay a good man.

He had made a terrible Master to Anakin, hadn’t he? He knew it, more so with all the years under his belt and now far in his past; and he had learned to live with it and to understand it, but the stray thought made its way to him from time to time.

He was aware of how much, this time around, as Ben and Ani, they had evolved in the way that may have been the one the Force had wanted them to choose from the beginning: Anakin was not a Jedi, but not a Sith. He was one entity unto himself. He didn’t sow mayhem on the unsuspecting galaxy – well… not in a slaughter-ish way – and that was all that counted for Ben.

As for himself… He may have been a Jedi all his life and even now, he tended that way more often than not, but he was also… more open to the Force and Its understanding. He could access powers that would be frowned upon by the Jedi of the time. Maybe even all of those who did not experience death first hand. It tended to change one’s perspective of life and death.)

“Why would you propose _Jango_ as the emissary for Kamino?” Ben asked, again. “If _I_ can’t deal with that, you _know_ the planets won’t deal with it. Him.”

“He knows the planet and the Prime Minister.”

“Good point,” he was answering. “He also is very, very, busy with his _work_ outside of Tython.”

“You mean when he’s spying for you?”

“I did not say that.”

“No, but it’s obvious. The man is searching for work in all planets where some of the _persons of interest_ are.”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you don’t want him to be the emissary for Kamino?”

“One of the reasons. But also, the man can’t be in one place too long before he begins to feel the need to literally shoot something. Or someone. And I won’t talk about the training regimen he put the armed forces under, when that happens.”

Anakin snickered and Ben rolled his eyes.

When _that_ happened, it was really _not_ amusing, because the medical teams where all over the barracks and military holdings and then, they came to complain. _To him_. And then, _the soldiers_ went to him, _also_ to complain.

“That’s to keep them sharp,” Anakin responded with a smirk, because his old friend already knew _why_ it made Ben exasperated.

“I can’t make him the emissary for Kamino.”

The speed with which his ex-Padawan re-gained his frown was truly an impressive sight.

“Very well, what about the rest of the list?”

Ben looked at the datapad in his hand and let his eyes fly over the names proposed for the emissaries of each planet in the Coalition.

Anakin was right in that he couldn’t keep trying to do all the work for the Coalition, he had to delegate. The emissaries were a good idea, but he wanted them to be trustworthy and somewhat experienced in negotiations.

That was why he didn’t understand how _Jango Fett_ made his way on the list. Or maybe Anakin and Ben were not talking about the same kind of _negotiations_. Which would make a whole lot more sense at the moment.

(And made him somewhat apprehensive about the kind of _negotiations_ Anakin had done to accept planets in the Coalition. The good thing was that he trusted Feral with that. Somewhat. Somehow. Even if the young Zabrak was _young_ and knew a lot about the Dark Side and all that implied.

Oh well. He would have to go have a look at the paperwork. Just to be sure.)

“Alright, I will give some thought to this and we’ll see where we go from there. In the meantime, why don’t you go oversee the ships? We received another shipment of raw materials.”

Anakin’s face lit up and he was out of the office before Ben could say “Heathen!”.

¤

“Master, I know I am only an Apprentice, but maybe you could find someone willing to help me with the workload?”

“I’m sorry?” he replied, raising his head from the datapads he was reading and that seemed to double in numbers every time he set a foot in his office.

“You put me in charge of all Force-Sensitive matters on Tython, but it’s a lot more work than it used to be with the growth of the population on planet and I need help.”

Good Force. Feral, too, wanted an Apprentice?

And where would he find help? Everybody seemed to be covered in work, from the youngest to the oldest person on Tython.

¤

“Anakin, I need you to go raid the Service Corps ranks again. I think the rumours are not enough to make everyone aware of our existence.”

“You want me to steal them?”

“No, of course not! I want them to be aware of the different possibilities concerning their future.”

“Is Master Windu aware that you are trying to kidnap his old Initiates?”

“I don’t need permission from Windu,” was the scathing reply of Ben. “We didn’t need it before, we certainly don’t need it now. And we do not kidnap them.”

“Okay, Obi-Wan, I’ll go and corrupt a few of the Service Corps members to join us.”

Ben rolled his eyes and shooed a smug-looking Anakin away from his space.

¤

/“Anakin, why are you making Gungi learn Djem So?”

“Because, obviously, he’ll be doing better with it than with Ataru,” was the response his apprentice said.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Because, of course Anakin would use that tone of voice with him that said ‘Your question is stupid, the answer is obvious, why do you ask me that?’.

“Is Master Yoda aware of this, Gungi?” Obi-Wan finally asked the third person present in the room and ready to fight on the mat, the Wookie Padawan of Yoda.

A moment of silence. The dread was crawling up his stomach and weighting it with lead.

“ _Howl…?_ ” (Nooo…?)

(That he knew that it was subdued, did seem to tell him how used he was by now of Gungi presence in his life. It was like he had two Padawans at the same time. He didn’t know what Master Yoda was doing while he was the one doing the training, but he imagined it was some Council thing. It would demand a lot of time to see to the needs of ten thousand beings.

…

He really, really, hoped it was because of the Council and not because Master Yoda was feeling his age. _But he had his doubts_. Yoda hadn’t even spoken to Obi-Wan about Gungi’s presence and training with Anakin and him.

He didn’t know what to do with that.)\

¤

Spying on Master Yoda, Padawan Gungi, Knight Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker in his ghost form was… sort of a vacation when he could laugh without anyone saying something about it.

It was also really interesting to see how the relationship between Obi-Wan and Anakin had changed during the few months they had been back from Dagobah and in the Temple. It looked a lot like what his relationship with his own Anakin looked like.

(He knew the transference of memories – and subsequently, of feelings and emotions attached to these memories – would be of good use.

He let himself smirk victoriously without Yoda the Trollitch seeing it. He knew he could make a “bad plan from Yoda” turn out right if he put himself and his strategist mind to it.

He hadn’t been called the Negotiator for _nothing_.

He hadn’t been one of the best High General of the Grand Army of the Republic for _nothing_.

He had learned his worth in the Force, through a lifetime of fighting and other setbacks. He knew how to manage them. And people kept underestimating him.)

It was also sort of heart-breaking, because it was the sort of Master/Padawan relationship he had wanted to have back then. Even then, he now knew how the influence of Palpatine impeded on their friendship and how the Sith undermined all the teachings Obi-Wan could have imparted to Anakin.

It was also sort of vindictively _good_ to do it in reverse and put a damper on those plans of Sidious.

Not that he would admit it in this lifetime – or the next or the one before this one – to anyone.

¤

“I was told you wanted to see me, Savage?” Ben asked as he arrived in the office of the young zabrak.

“Master,” Savage greeted with a sigh heavy with relief.

That stopped Ben in his tracks and he observed with a critical eye the zabrak. He saw the dark zones beneath his eyes, he saw his twitchy hands and he saw the tick at the corner of his right eye that Savage seemed to have developed in these last weeks.

“Hmm, the younglings are a handful, yes?” he said more than asked, because it seemed evident if he had to judge by the circles under Savage’s eyes.

“Yes,” the zabrak answered with grim intensity. “I need more help. I need more Crèche Masters to support the young ones. Because you seem to bring some more each time you go away.”

Here it was. Another future Master of an Apprentice.

“Do you have someone in mind or are you like your brother and need me to do a screening process first?” he asked in a dry and flat tone.

The hesitation in the zabrak was flagrant to Ben, who rolled his eyes.

“Of course. Like brothers, indeed. I will see what I can do.”

He turned around and fled the office.

¤

(Something was not right in the Temple.

And he knew exactly what. But not how to correct the problem.

Master Yoda was... in a sort of mental breakdown, if he could call it that. He had observed the Grandmaster and for someone who was used to this sort of observation – he was a Councillor, of course, he was used to it – it was flagrant. Oh, Master Yoda hid it well, but he, as the Master of the Order, was one of the few Jedi who knew Yoda really well. And seeing the Master slipping further from reality? He did see it.

He also knew the culprits for this breakdown were somewhere on their miserable planet of Tython, certainly sipping disgusting alcohol done by their _medics_ and _mechanics_.

Which could be an explanation for their apparent madness. Unfortunately, he knew better than that, because he knew their stories. He wondered however if madness was something that could be passed on… like, in the midst of memories and feelings…

Force.

He hoped not!

He closed his eyes and sighed, his body slumping into his comfortable sofa inside his quarters. What a mess.

If he recapitulated, it gave something like that:

Knight Kenobi had already a demanding Padawan in the form of one Anakin Skywalker, and now, found himself with the added burden of Padawan Gungi, because the young Wookie was not properly trained by Master Yoda, who was immersing himself too deeply in the Force in the hopes of stalling the mental breakdown he knew was coming, without knowing why it was coming.

And in the midst of all that, he, Mace Windu, knew what was happening, but could not say anything.

And he couldn’t forget the Senate either and their insistence and demands that became more and more complicated and felt more and more like servitude. Damn Sith was making his work more difficult each days and was trying his nerves.

“Told me, the Force did, that answers you would have,” was suddenly said loudly from a shape in front of him.

He did not jump in fright, because he was a Jedi Master, but he took the time to slow his heart rate before he opened his eyes and glared at Master Yoda, who was sitting in one of the chair, like he owned the place, the little miscreant troll.

“What answers would that be, Yoda?” he derided a little in reply.

Yes, he was feeling irritated and wanted to be as irritating as possible in return. Nobody could really blame him after his day. Even after his months, or even years!

“Discrepancies in the Temple, I found.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, closing his eyes.

He refused to make the questioning easier for the Master. Nope. Somebody deserved some retribution for his hurting mind and teeth – because he kept gritting them and had been told it could be the cause for the tension headaches he had some of the times; except he kept gritting his teeth, because _people_ kept making him angry and exasperated.

“Know something, you do, Master Windu.”

He chose not to react and stayed in his slumped form.

“Concerning three particulars individuals, these discrepancies are. Know them, you do, Master Windu.”

“What do you want from me, Master?” he finally asked tiredly the Grandmaster. “I don’t have any answers to give you, nor have I any concrete idea about what you are talking about.”

It was the truth, which he hoped, would ring clear in the Force and assuage somewhat Master Yoda about the whole affair.

“But I have a question to ask: are you making Knight Kenobi the Master of two Padawans and letting your own go? Because that is blasphemy, to make someone a Master for two,” Mace said.

“Blasphemy, is it?” Yoda knocked his gimmer stick on the ground, frown etched on his aged face. “’Two, there is only.’ Sith maxim, it is. If far from it we are, how blasphemy can it be, to the Jedi?”

The Master of the Order that he was, gaped for a few seconds, Yoda’s answer was not really computing in his head. Because it was blasphemy and the Master was saying it was not?

He narrowed his eyes and tried to sense the Force around the troll. Was it the other Yoda? The Trollitch one? He didn’t think so. He didn’t feel like the other one. But he sure as hell began to sound like the other one!

Was it the mind manipulation?

Force damnit!)

¤

“ _Yoda is suspicious._ ”

“Well, of course, he is,” Ben answered, like it was something he knew from the start of it. (Which he did. Suspected, but his suspicious were generally right. He believed in his instinct and in the Force.)

“ _You said they would not remember a thing!_ ”

“I said we tempered with their memories to make them believe in something else. Not that they would not remember. After some time.”

“ _What are you trying to do with them, Ambassador?_ ” questioned Mace in his most official manner of Master of the Order.

“Why, Master Windu, I am following the Will of the Force in this matter.”

Ben saw Mace gritting his teeth and he felt more than saw, Qui-Gon laughing next to him.

¤

“Cody, I know I said I would not interfere with military matters, but it continues to be the chaos in here. What is the problem exactly, my friend?”

Cody sighed and let himself fall on the first hard surface he could find, so he could be sitting – slumping more like – and taking a breath from all he was trying to do – and to subdue most of the time.

“I talked with Master Opress, because I had an idea, but I wanted to confirm it with him.”

“… Savage?” Ben repeated slowly, somewhat surprised by the turn of the conversation.

“Yes. It seems there are a lot of similarities between the barracks and the crèches.”

“… Ah.”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

Cody stared at him for a long moment, head cocked to the side and eyes narrowed.

“Yes, indeed, you see,” the man nodded in confirmation or satisfaction, he wasn’t quite sure.

He was right. Ben had problems with his apprentices and companions, and even with Mayor Shakaa. It was like they had all decided they would return to a mental age inferior to ten years old. They were acting like toddlers most of the time, except they had the calculating mind and combat and/or lightsaber skills of their real age. He had the impression of stopping metaphorical fire everywhere that his apprentices were spending time in, just to have his attention on them. It was maddening and exhausting.

Of course, Savage had the same problem, but on another scale. The younglings were young and did not have the skills or abilities of his senior apprentices. They could not really do important damages, but their youthful energy was tiring too.

For Cody… well, the men were trying their freedom and boundaries, before settling into a semblance of order. It was fortunate the new recruits of their military were not Force-Sensitives, because he could not imagine what they would be doing if they were. His apprentices were enough as it was, he was not searching for a disaster on a planet – or galactic – scale, thank you very much.

¤

“Why should I be the one to train your new little pet, _Jetii_?”

“Hello to you too, Jango. I am fine on this day. What can I do for you?”

Going on another _adventure_ seemed to be a good idea more and more these days. He wondered why.

“Don’t be sassy with me, Kenobi!”

Oh no. He did not wonder why, he knew exactly why.

“Are you listening to me?”

“No, I am listening to the other Bounty Hunter who seems to go on and on about a problem I have no idea about,” he retorted with a little too much snark to be polite.

Force, but he was exhausted!

“Your pet Ventress told me to train her pet apprentice and told me to go to you if I had a problem. Well, I have one! What do I do with him?”

Why did people keep coming to him with these problems?

“I don’t know. Put Boba with Han and make them do some blaster practice? How should I know?” he told Jango, exasperated and passing his hands in his hairs already in disarray.

He knew he looked like something a rancor had chewed and promptly spit away in disgust.

“Okay,” Jango said. “Thank you, Kenobi.”

And the Bounty Hunter disappeared through the door, letting Ben at his massive amount of work.

¤

“Why do I have here a request for a ship going to Serenno?”

“Hmmm… Because Ambassador you are.”

“You are being deliberately obtuse, Master. I know I did not make this request, and I know you still have your plan to save Dooku, but going to see him will not make the situation any better.”

“Not there, I will go. There, _you_ must go.”

“… I don’t understand. Why must I do that? What did you learn?”

“Alliances, important they are.”

“You want to create an alliance between the CIS and the CFP? Do you want Anakin to kill me, _again_?!”

¤

“What is the goal of the Coalition?” asked Count Dooku, as he was serving them their alcoholic drink after their rich diner.

“To free the planets. It’s in the name,” he snarked in reply, accepting the drink with a nod of the head in thanks.

“To free them from what, exactly?” continued the Count as if he hadn’t heard Ben, completely unruffled as he was.

“Well… The majority of them, it’s to liberate them from slavery. Some were recipient of slavers. Some were slavers that did not know better.”

“And how do you win their loyalty? I imagine it can’t be easy for the planets suffering from slavery to be allied with slavers.”

“It is a fine balance to find, yes. Some are ready to forgive and move onward to make something of their life and planet. Some are in it just for the resources we can provide. If they do not go to war against each other, I call it a great success.”

“Indeed.”

The silence lasted until they both had finished their beverage. It was Dooku, who began anew the discussion.

“I once thought that making the Republic understand our plight, _their_ plight in their own _corrupted_ centre, by being forceful if need be, was the answer I was looking for. It was one of the reasons I created the Confederation.”

He was serving himself another drink and showed the decanter to Ben in silent enquiry. He held out his own glass and nodded in thanks, when the Count served him. They took their seat again, and Ben mutely observed Dooku. Something was happening and the Force was holding Its breath, just like him.

¤

(He was holding his head in his hands. They were at a shatterpoint. It could go one way or another, but the person, or event unfolding, was not pressed for time, he believed, because his headache was here and would not _go away_ , even with the medicine.

He gritted his teeth and snarled wordlessly at whoever was making a choice, to bloody Force kriff damnit make it already!)

¤

“I do not really know what to think, these days.”

“What made you change your belief?” Ben asked, because he needed to understand what made the old Jedi Master change his views.

“You, my friend,” Dooku smiled at him.

A genuine one too, if he had to judge.

Ben stared and stared some more, honestly wordless by such candid sentiment and his actions having such a consequence. It had been what he had worked for, but there was a difference between working for it and finally seeing it working.

“What…” he coughed in his hand, throat dry as the desert on Tatooine, and took a large gulp of his alcohol from his glass. “What did I do to make you think differently?”

“Your Coalition is more recent than even my Confederation, but it seems more popular somehow. Planets have begun to flock to you, demanding your attention. Even planets with which I had contacts seem to be less interested with me these last months.”

“I… am sorry?” he winced, even if it wasn’t really his fault, nor was he really sorry, because the planets were better independent than relying on the future Separatists, what with their Council being what it was – or had been – war profiteers the majority of them.

“Do not be,” the Count laughed. “That is the way of politics, the one with the better speech wins a lot more favour.”

That was a joke. Not dry and sarcastic humour or smug delight at his miserable days, it was true humour. Ben was truly startled by what was happening at this significant moment. Maybe Yoda had really seen or sensed something, when he had told him to embark on the ship to Serenno. And maybe he should stop being surprised by Yoda the Trollitch.

What was he thinking? Of course, he would continue to be surprised!

“Why are you telling me this?” Ben softly asked.

Dooku looked at him, and Ben knew he was being evaluated and risks were calculated in the mind of the Sith.

(Was he really a Sith? Ben would like to think no, because he genuinely liked him and the Jedi part of him did not want a Sith for a friend, but then, he liked Anakin and Maul too, two persons who had been real Sith for a lot longer than Dooku would have been by this time, if the Count was really one.)

“I am deciding the future of the Confederacy as a whole.”

“By looking for new goals?” Ben probed.

“By looking for new ways to reach those goals,” his host corrected. “You showed me violence might not be how to do it to get the best results. And I enjoy a good sparring word duel from time to time, and there is no better arena for that, than politics.”

“And,” Ben added with a thoughtfully sly look on his face. “Politics are very violent and bloodthirsty without even engaging in a physical duel.”

“Too true,” saluted the Count with his glass, before drinking from it.

“Then, I’ll drink to your open-mindedness and your exemplary willingness to question everything and everyone, Count.”

“Then, I’ll drink to your willingness to listen, your capacity to hear even when some things go unsaid and your honest character, Ambassador.”

“You flatterer, you, Count,” Ben laughed and drank again.

¤

“I resign!”

“What?”

“I said: ‘I resign!’”

“You can’t do that!”

“Why? It was a lot less stressful when I was without a home, a goal or a planet to supervise civilian matter! Why did you make me Mayor?!”

“As I recall, the vote for you to become Governor has been passed and you are now Governor Ren Shakaa.”

“The change in title just put more work to my name, Ben! I can’t do it anymore!”

Ben sighed.

“If you need help, you’ll have to search for your own assistants, because I can’t find them for you, my friend.”

A few seconds passed in silence, the two men mutely staring each other down. Governor Shakaa finally slumped in the nearest chair, shoulders rising to try to hide his head between them.

“Not even a little?” he asked, tone meek.

Ben slumped in his chair too.

¤

“And you, Anakin,” Ben asked his old friend with a dry and sarcastic tone. “Don’t you want your own Apprentice too? It seems like everybody wants one these days.”

Anakin looked at him in horror.

“An Apprentice? Me?! What the kriff, Obi-Wan! I don’t want one, Force, no!”

“Oh,” Ben replied, frankly surprise.

Anakin snorted.

“I already have enough with a Master who does not do what he should do, what would I want with an Apprentice who would not do what I told him to, as well?”

Oh, yes, of course it was Anakin’s reason.

“Why, thank you, Anakin,” he told the ex-Sith Lord in a snide tone. “I appreciate it. Really.”

¤

“Obi-Wan!” yelled a panicked Anakin.

“Anakin! Do not run around like a headless bantha and calm down, for Force’s sake!”

His old friend stopped and breathed deeply, before he returned to his panicked state of mind.

“Obi-Wan! I just found out that Master Yoda, not the Trollitch one, the Jedi Master one, is talking about resigning from his seat of Grandmaster of the Order, that Padmé is considering another stint as the Queen and that the Chancellor is talking about extending the period of time of the chancellorship of the Republic!”

Where did he get these informations and how come Anakin was more informed than he was?

Also… Force damnit.

¤


	10. (25 BBY, part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh, my chapter is long, so cheers to you, my readers! I hope you enjoy it!

¤

**(25 BBY, part II)**

¤

Everything needed to stop for a moment, because he was asked to be all over the place at the same time and he didn’t have the skill – yet – to clone himself and be everywhere at once.

He took a deep breath and readied himself for the meeting that he had demanded to have to end these crises that kept arising when he had his back turned and to prevent further from getting this far. He hoped everyone was here already, because he didn’t want to have to wait too long. No, rectification, he didn’t want to wait at all: he was tired and things kept getting out of control and he was left to flounder and to try to lessen the damage.

“Master?”

He turned and stared at Anakin, who had been the one who had called him. His old friend had a sheepish expression on his face. It did not bode well for his future mood.

“Yes, Anakin?” he asked, somewhat warily.

“Everyone is here.”

“But…?”

The ex-Sith Lord winced, looked at the door he had closed behind him, before his gaze returned on Ben.

“They’re arguing. And fighting.”

“Of course they are,” Ben rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Well, time to face the music. Let’s go, Anakin, and pray to the Force I don’t let my temper get the better of me and of them.”

“Ah,” Anakin snickered. “I’d like to see that, actually!”

Ben let his flat stare do the talking for him.

“What?” his ex-Padawan cried defensively. “When I’m not the recipient of your temper, it’s funny.”

He sighed in answer and opened the door.

¤

The room was full.

There was one table in the centre and everyone was sitting around it. Ben let his gaze pass on everyone and he knew he did well with them. In one life, never would he have imagined to see these people sitting together, more or less peacefully and not on a battlefield.

It made him aware that even with these good things done, he had to continue on this path and he couldn’t falter, because the Dark would try at any opportunity to sink Its claws into any of them and he could not let that happen.

It was why he asked for this meeting with everyone of importance on Tython. With their roles and their work and their planet, they needed to have some semblance of order.

(And everyone needed to stop asking him for things, Force damnit! He was not an all-seeing being with the power of omniscience, he was just one man trying his best.)

For obvious reason, Master Yoda was not with them.

(Though… Ben could feel the little troll that he was, inside the ceiling vent above them. He hoped the Master wouldn’t crash into the room at an inopportune moment. There would be confusion and more questions, than he would be comfortable answering.)

¤

“This meeting was called to try and resolve some of the problems that seem to follow us. We will do so with everyone’s opinion on it and the different views you can provide us.”

He breathed, deeply, with his eyes closed. After a few seconds, he snapped them opened.

“Let’s begin.”

¤

“Asajj, what is that I hear about spice?”

“Nothing,” she dared to answer.

He narrowed his eyes at her too quick answer. He knew she was trying something and he knew spice trade was involved, as it had been in the discussion he had had with his many eyes everywhere – and yes, he refused to call them spies, he did not need spies, he just needed to know what happened everywhere in the galaxy. Also, he needed to keep an eye on his many apprentices, followers and companions, because they had a tendency to make waves everywhere they went or make things go boom or go down. They weren’t too… discreet and he had to make sure nobody pointed a finger in their – and ultimately, his – direction.

“Asajj,” he said.

She slumped a little in her seat. The movement was slight enough that only those who knew her recognized the gesture for what it was – an admission of guilt and defeat all rolled into one, at the presence of his stern Master’s tone. Unfortunately for her, they all knew everyone pretty well in this room.

She mumbled something.

“Can you repeat that, please,” he ordered her and refused to feel remorseful when she threw him a betrayed gaze.

“It’s one of the less dangerous ways to approach the Cartel,” she finally said when he stayed silent.

“The Cartel,” he reiterated flatly. “Of the Hutts?”

“Yes, of course, what other Cartel is there?” she snarked back in a defensive tone.

“Let me rephrase all of that,” he told her. “You entered spice trade, just so you could approach the Hutts. To spy on them?”

“It’s not a bad plan,” Anakin intervened.

Ben threw him a reproachful glare and the ex-Sith Lord raised his hands up to show he did not intend to do anything else, before backing down with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders.

“It’s a terrible plan if it all goes to hell and we all know that it will, sooner or later, go to hell, because we are not so lucky,” Ben argued.

“I thought there was no luck involved in the Universe, only the Force,” replied sarcastically a bored-looking Maul.

“And when have the Force and our luck always been nice?” he countered drily.

“Well…” Anakin began. “I don’t want to be against you… Well, yes, I would totally love to be – _right_ , Master, I get it, I shut up now. I was saying, since we found Tython, things seems to go well for us. Don’t they?”

He was right of course, and he knew Anakin was comparing their lives of their present time to their lives before their death and their journey to the past.

Except…

“You did just jinx us, did you not, Padawan?” he sighed with a hand gripping his beard in frustration.

¤

_“What do you mean, what do you do with the benefits?”_

_“Well… Spice trade is a lucrative trade. I have a lot of credits. It should be used for something. It’s not as if it’s blood money, Master. It’s just… Hutt money, from the drugged and nobodies of the Galaxy and we – I mean, the worms, don’t really care for it, now, do they?”_

_“Fine. Put them to good use for the medics and healers.”_

_“… Medics and healers?”_

_“It is money from spice trade, Asajj. Wouldn’t it be the pinnacle of irony if we used it for a radical cure for the drug addicts and the overdosed ones?”_

_“Oh. Ooh… Letting the Hutts pay for the remedy for their spices is… That’s devious, Master!”_

_“Thank you!” he beamed._

¤

_“Asajj,” he called his once-upon-a-time apprentice. “Why do I receive reports from_ Han _?”_

_“Because it’s more efficient when I do the hard work and he reports it by writing it?”_

_“What I meant to say is… Are you bringing Han with you on your… smuggling tour of the galaxy and working with the Hutts?”_

_His tone was trying to stay calm and flat-toned, but she could detect his anger and worry underneath the surface. Plus, his voice had begun to go higher the more he was talking, and it was always a sign of rising anxiety with him._

_“… Maybe?” she answered, because there was no reason to lie, Master Ben always seemed to know everything there was to know about his closer acquaintances._

_“A seven year old in Hutt territories?” he continued, in the same high tone._

_“It’s good practice,” she defended herself with a frown. “I told him I would make him better, faster and dealing with the scums of the galaxy will ready him for everything else!”_

_She knew she was right, she just had to make Master Ben understand it as well. He would soon enough see the fruit of her labour – and the progression of young Han._

¤

“Maul, I found for you two assistants. They both are aware that you can just keep them around to assist you in your work, or, if you are agreeable, that you can make them your Apprentices.”

The reply he got was a scowl, but he was used to it and to Maul’s more extreme moods. The zabrak was positively calm and docile at the moment, which certainly was an exploit. Or his tattooed friend was drunk, which was a possibility too. And with his seemingly null attention span on anyone or anything in the room since the beginning of their meeting, the possibility was very real indeed.

Ben sighed and forced himself to not roll his eyes. Maul would find soon enough his two new assistants and he would see for himself if he would keep them or not.

“Is that really a good idea to give him people to corrupt?” interrupted Anakin, with one hand raised in the air to bring the attention to him and his question.

“Nobody asked you,” snarled Maul, entering the conversation about him for the first time.

“No, no,” Asajj said. “For this once, I agree with the Babini.”

“Well, nobody asked _you_!” the ex-Sith Lord repeated the words angrily.

“Everybody,” Ben called to his companions. “You will all calm down and we will resume our meeting!”

The silence that followed was ripped with tension and he felt his headache beginning to ram against his temples.

“Does that mean he gets his two assistants?” Anakin barraged again through the discussion and awkward silence.

Ben looked to the tattooed zabrak.

“Well, Maul? What is the verdict?”

“I will see. If they annoy me, I’ll just make them disappear,” the zabrak replied.

“From your vision, isn’t it, Maul?” Ben stated somewhat forcefully to him. “You will make them disappear _from your vision_ and _not_ from existence.”

“Right,” he nodded once and returned to his bored-looking mental and physical state.

Ben sighed and shook his head.

¤

_“Good afternoon, Master Maul,” greeted the first one of the people crowding his office, a stoic looking nautolan of young years._

_His big black eyes seemed to sear through his very person and Maul turned his head, uncomfortable, to look at the rest of the room._

_“Finally!” was cried by the second person Maul saw in his workplace. “Your meeting took forever and now the work is not done for the day, so chop chop! To work, young one!”_

_He was frozen by the whirlwind of movements and the tumble of words escaping the mouth of the female human, who seemed to have some years to her person._

_Was she one of the assistants Ben had chosen for him? An older woman? Really?_

_He tried to sneer, but his facial muscles refused to follow his command._

_“Who are you?” he demanded to know._

_“My name is Sorbin Dell,” the nautolan informed him with a nod of the head._

_“And I’m here to see –” began the woman._

_“Mother!” a voice from behind Maul suddenly cried. “I told you to go away!”_

_A slight form entered the office and went to stand next to the older woman. The owner of the voice was a younger version of the human. If the resemblance was anything, it told him she really was her biological daughter. Maul mentally sighed in relief: the older woman was not one of his assistants, then._

_“Master Maul,” the younger female finally turned her attention towards him. “I’m sorry for my mother, she just won’t_ go away _, even if we tell her to. I am Sia Gerway and my mother, Miati Gerway.”_

_“Young ones nowadays,” huffed the indignant mother. “And here I was, making tea and biscuits and you want me to leave? Very well!”_

_“… Wait!”_

_Maul blinked when he understood it was him that told her to wait. He blinked again when his two assistants threw him a gaze he knew all too well – because he had already seen it on his own brothers: one that was saying to him to make the mother stay here and make her give them the sweets, pretty please and thank you._

_He gritted his teeth and breathed deeply and rapidly._

_“Tea, you’ve said?”_

_Well, he forced sort of three words out, it was better than nothing. Better that, than the vicious tongue-lashing he really wanted to have. He’ll wait for Ben to come here for that. Or for himself to go to the frankly tiring Jedi._

¤

_“How can you be so chipper all the time? You can’t be so chipper if you study under my tutelage!” he accused her, scowl firmly in place on his face._

_“Why?” she asked, imperturbable under his scrutiny._

_Sia had accepted the apprenticeship offered by Master Maul, while Sorbin the nautolan had stated he was content with his role of assistant. He did not really care for his gifts from the Force, but was a budding historian with a penchant for extreme reactions when the subject was brought up in conversation. He was passionate about it, there was no doubt, and sort of stoic about everything else. Obviously, and because of that, Master Maul had taken a liking to the nautolan immediately._

_In her case though, she was too chipper and too cheerful and it sent Master Maul in all sorts of mood when he saw her being like that. But she couldn’t very well stop being herself, now, could she? Plus, it was_ so _very fun to make him uncomfortable, she often found herself thinking, while smirking._

_“My Apprentice is supposed to copy me!” Maul snarled. “And I am not_ chipper _!”_

_She thought about that for a few seconds._

_“I don’t think it works like that. Master Ben is nothing like Master Ventress or Padawan Sunrider or Padawan Opress.”_

_Maul scoffed._

_“They are all theatrical and dramatic bantha brains!_ Of course _they are like each other! Even my own brother is becoming like them!”_

_Well. She did not disagree. Nor did she say that she thought Maul had his place in this category too._

¤

“Savage, some of the new arrivals have agreed to see to the Crèches. You will take all of them. If they are interested to continue the work as a Crèche Master, I will leave you to see to their training and needs.”

“Maybe we could resolve the problem of the number by placing some of the children with other Jedi, make them learn the ropes already?” suggested Anakin.

It wasn’t a bad idea. It would also make the young generation of the Jedi he was training used to the idea of caring for younger Force-User than them. And it would enforce the familial bond that he wanted everyone to develop.

“We’ll see. For the moment, Savage, you’ll continue to take care of the younger generations with the help that volunteered.”

“Of course, Master Ben,” replied the zabrak.

¤

_“You are the help that volunteered?” he asked._

_“We are,” the cathar male acknowledged with a sunny smile. “This is Okley,” he presented his wookie companion – his_ female _wookie companion and Savage, sure as anything, did not see the differences between the male ones and the female ones, there was only hairs and_ more _hairs. “And I am Glito. Nice to meet you and the younglings, Master Savage Opress,” the cathar finished with a bow from the waist._

_“Welcome, then,” he returned the bow and beckoned them into the nexus’ den – younglings’ den, same difference, really, they all bit._

¤

_“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” the cathar was fretting about the excursion they were about to go on with the younglings._

_“Yes,” Savage replied simply. “You will see. We are doing two things with this excursion.”_

_“Oh?” Glito asked, losing the anxiety riddling his mind for a more curious tone. “And what are those two things?”_

_“You will see,” he smirked at the cathar and marched in front of the younglings to bring them to the military grounds._

_._

_“Well… I did not foresee such a thing,” muttered Glito._

_“Indeed,” Savage replied. “The idea came from General Cody and me. We saw a lot of similarities between the barracks and the Crèches and we wondered what would happen if they ever met._ That _is what happens.”_

_“That looks more like a battlefield than anything else,” the cathar stated, when he saw Okley join the activities with a roar, followed by the shrieking laughter of their young charges._

_“Yes,” the zabrak agreed. “The soldiers learn to manage a battlefield like that and the young ones can spend all their energy on trying to catch them. It will be a peaceful evening for us.”_

_“What about the weapons?”_

_“They’re not real. It’s full of paint,” Savage answered, and then turned to Glito. “You are assigned to bath time after we return to the Crèches.”_

Bath time? _The cathar wondered._

_And then, the chaos started and the paint began to erupt from the guns._ Bath time _, he repeated in his head in dread, when he finally understood what it would entail, and watched with a sort of detached amazement the paint rain on the soldiers and the younglings._

_“General?” suddenly called the zabrak._

_One of the men marching down the ground stopped, looked in their direction and changed his destination._

_“Crèche Master,” the General greeted. “And company,” he nodded to Glito who returned the greeting._

_“Have you told your men what will happen after we depart?”_

_“Ha! Of course not,” laughed the soldier. “If I’d told them before, they would have refused the paint guns.”_

_“So you continue with the punishments you saw in the Crèche?”_

_“It works,” he shrugged in response. “If it works, it’s good for me.”_

_“Excuse-me,” the cathar interrupted them. “What will happen after we depart?”_

_“Why, the punishment, of course,” smirked the General. “My men will have to wash all that paint off if they ever want to go to sleep!”_

¤

“Feral. I trust you implicitly. That is for this reason, that each department seeing to the Jedi will report to you, and you will report to me. I hope that with this organisation, things will get better. If it is not, we’ll see to take another one to work alongside you.”

¤

_“What is that report about?” he asked Aid, who had been lent by his Master, to help him adjust to his new duties, which was to read and oversee every matters of the Force Users on the planet and report it to Ben._

_“It is about the advancement of the rebuilding of the ancient Jedi Temple.”_

_“And this one?”_

_“It is about researches of the Jedi archivists’ division. And this one…” the droid continued without being prompted. “This one is about the healers and those whom are in their care and this one is about their cooperative work with the biological division of Tython, concerning their researches’ advancement about the aging of the clones. This one is about the Crèche division of the Force Users, their numbers and needs.”_

_“Very well,” Feral said somewhat flatly and he congratulated himself when his voice did not waver._

_He never knew there was so much work to see to! And Ben had been doing that alone for the past few years? He regretted somewhat the work he was doing before, with the negotiations’ parts of Tython and the membership of the Coalition. But Master Ben assured him he would return to it soon enough, he was still his Padawan, after all, and Master Ben was a Master Negotiator and he was still learning from him._

_“Oh!” Aid exclaimed when he unearthed another pile of datapads that Feral had not seen before. “Here are the demands of Knowledge Master Opress for the refurbishment of his ship and his building. And the Vault of the Jedi Temple. Oh, he also wants a place built to stock his more dangerous artefacts in.”_

_His brother had taken to this Guardian of Knowledge post with particular enthusiasm. He had never seen him like that before. Savage too was thriving on Tython. And if his brothers’ happiness was the results of their stay here, he would contend himself with this never-ending workload._

_“Here are the demands of the Force Users that are presently off-planet and overseeing our efforts with the planets that are members of the Coalition. Well…” Aid trailed off and held the datapad to Feral, who took it._

_The list of demands was several feet long. And continuing._

_What had he embarked himself upon, when he accepted that job?_

¤

“Jango… I will ask you to talk with me at the end of this meeting,” he told the Bounty Hunter and got a slight nod in return.

“Why?” interrupted Anakin. “Why can’t we get a report of his activities at the same time as you?”

Ben glared at his old Padawan and tried to muster the power of thousands of suns behind it, to make it more effective.

“Because I did not invite you. And stop pouting already!”

¤

_“Cad Bane?”_

_The pursed lips were a tell-tale sign of frustration with Jango._

_“Did not find, but rumours have him in Hutt territories.”_

_“Of course he is,” he muttered. “Bossk?”_

_“Colluding with other Bounty Hunters. Was seen in Florrum.”_

_“Castas?”_

_“The same.”_

_“Greedo?”_

_“With the Hutts.”_

_The pursed lips were seen again, Ben took note, before he returned at his list of the more known Bounty Hunters._

_“Zam Wessel?”_

_“Scouring the galaxy for work. Was seen in Confederacy planets.”_

_“Hmm… I’ll talk to the Count later. What about Moralo Eval?”_

_“Presently in prison on Phindar, but I heard he would soon be out.”_

_“Rako Hardeen?”_

_“Scouring the under cities of Coruscant for work. But it seems he did not have a lot of luck these last few months.”_

_“I think you should talk with Ani about that,” Ben coughed in his hand to cover his laugh. “What about Dengar?”_

_“Unknown.”_

_“Embo?”_

_“Unknown too. I did not find him. He might be dead,” he shrugged. “But he might be on a bounty for his leader.”_

_“His leader? The Bounty Hunter Sugi? And what about her?”_

_“Well…” Jango hesitated. “She is not opposed to work for you, if you have the money for it. But not at the moment. She’s “testing the waters of the galaxy” for now.”_

_“In other words, she is waiting to see in which direction the galaxy will be going and will go with the most favourable one of the participants in the conflict that will divide it. Aurra Sing?”_

_“Benefitting from my absence in the galaxy at large. Becoming rich and has an eye on the Hutts and their bounties.”_

_“Is there any chances at all that one of them – except Sugi – would work for us?” Ben asked, stippling his fingers on the desk._

_“No,” Jango shook his head with his rather definitive response. “Zero chances of that. They all have already worked for the Hutts, so between the Republic, the Confederacy, the Coalition and the Hutts, they will choose the Hutts, every time.”_

_“And why is that? We have money too.”_

_“But they have the same loose morals.”_

_“Yes, of course…” he muttered in his beard, before raising his head again and looking at the man in front of him. “And… Did you manage to locate Hondo Ohnaka?”_

_“Yes. He gorges himself on alcohol on Florrum, buttering up to the Bounty Hunters that are there. It seems he has some problems with finding work at the moment. I heard he blames you and your “morally uptight ass” for freeing slaves wherever you go. That causes his merchandises to go dry.”_

_“If he wanted work, he could come to us. I’m sure I could find something for him. But we’ll keep that – and him – in mind for the moment. We’ll reconsider later.”_

_Silence._

_“You know, Kenobi,” Jango began in a tone that he wanted flat, but was uneasy. “Since I’ve met you, I’ve changed.”_

_“Yes, I know. I would say “congratulations”, but you don’t seem to want to hear it, so…”_

_“I don’t know if I like it,” the Bounty Hunter muttered._

_“What do you mean? You do not like the responsibility and the trust placed upon you? Or is it the safety of your son in your own home on a friendly planet with enough riches to comfortably live?” Ben asked in a somewhat sarcastic manner. “Or maybe it is the fact that I let you do your Bounty Hunting without saying anything or stopping you, even with my “Jedi morals”?”_

_“… I’ve found myself more at odds with the others of my profession than not.”_

_“Well…” he replied slowly, weighting his words in his mind before they passed his lips. “I would say it is a sign of an evolution towards a worthy goal, but that may be just me.”_

_Another moment of consideration from Jango, during which he was silently pondering._

_“Boba’s happy. That’s enough for me,” the Bounty Hunter finally said and continued his detailed encounters with the other Bounty Hunters of the galaxy._

_Ben counted that as a win._

¤

“Ren, to be a Governor is indeed a heavy charge, but you are up to it. It is the same as Mayor, just with a number a little more raised. I did as you asked of me and found some people to help you. You will have to see them and see if you accept them.”

“Why don’t we create a Council for every department of the planet?” Asajj asked. “It seems it would be more effective that way, no? One for the Jedi, one for the Military…”

Ben turned to her. She was right, but the problem was to find members for these Councils and he would prefer experienced members of each department for them.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” he finally uttered.

¤

_“You have a Civil Council now. Why do you ask me?” he asked, exasperated._

_“Because I don’t know them all that well for the moment and I want your opinion on this matter,” answered Ren. “I know you have our best interests in mind and that you won’t lead us astray.”_

_“I chose them myself, Ren. I have put my trust in them, you must do the same. They are to be your Council, not mine.”_

_Instead of responding, the Governor held his datapad to him without a word. Ben rolled his eyes and grabbed it in resignation._

_“You want me to see to… the care of the gardens of the city?” he asked slowly, not sure if he had been given the correct documents._

_When he looked at his friend and saw his sheepish expression, he understood. He put the datapad on his desk and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose._

_“What is the real problem, Ren? Are you not satisfied with your position of Governor or is it a more personal problem that brought you to my office?”_

_“You know we talked about creating other cities… instead of continuing of expanding this one.”_

_“Yes… What about it?”_

_“I would like to live in one of them.”_

_Ben’s eyebrows rose in surprise._

_“You want to go away? You do not like our capital?”_

_“It’s more like… the capital likes me a little too much,” he muttered in response._

_Ben blinked._

_“I’m sorry, Ren, I do not understand the problem.”_

_There was a moment of silence, before the Governor blurted out the truth._

_“Everyone’s invading my person!”_

_“What? But you have been assigned a protection detail. Don’t they do their jobs? Are you alright?”_

_“Not… Not for that, Ben,” Ren said, before he sighed and slumped in one of the chairs before the desk. “They all ask me if I’ve been thinking about taking in a wife, husband, mate or whatever else the species have as a married companion. They all flock to me and try to engage me in conversation and all that dating nonsense!”_

_“Ah,” he uttered, his lips twitching slightly in humour, but trying to stay still._

_“That’s not funny, Ben!” cried the desperate Governor, his hairs a right mess after he passed his hands in it for the umpteenth time. “Wait ‘til it happens to you!”_

_“My dear friend,” Ben replied with a cheeky smile. “Why do you think it does not already happen to me? And why would you think I would reject such_ affection _towards my person?”_

¤

“Cody, Rex. Things are a mess in the barracks. I know I said you would be the one to see to the organisation of the military, Cody, but we have to put a stop to this nonsense now. I drew a hierarchy. I took into account whom you already have in charge and I went with my instinct for the rest, so hopefully, it will stop the chaos. You’ll return to full charge of the military’s affairs once everyone and everything are settled.”

He would take on the mantel of General one last time to resolve this mess.

¤

_When he entered the training grounds of the military, he took in all the chaos and the angry voices he heard from everywhere. Fights seem to begin and break off almost immediately, only to restart some time later. It was the complete anarchy. He wondered if it was because the men – and women – in their ranks were not only clones, but everybody who wanted to join._

_“Soldiers,” he called to them in his High-General-of-the-GAR voice without yelling, and used the Force to make his voice heard to the last of the soldiers in the vicinity._

_They came crashing – quite literally in some cases – to a stop, before they all turned to him. Their reaction was quite funny to witness, as they all readied themselves, stop talking and tried to stand with their back straight in a semblance of a soldier’s pose at attention._

_“Well, I’ve been told the soldiers of the military of Tython were not ready to be deployed if there was an incident and I did not want to believe it, so I wanted to visit the grounds. Unfortunately, I’ve been here for the past five minutes and I know it wasn’t an exaggeration. You are not soldiers. This… This is not military ground. This is a circus.”_

_He let his smile drop, straightened his shoulders, and put his hands behind his back, ramrod straight and not a hair out of place, with his beard neatly combed. His warm expression became blank, while his blue eyes took on an icy calm._

_“I am here to see it rectified.”_

¤

_“Why are you stopping?” he asked the panting men as they doubled over their knees, breaths coming in short gasping gulps of air. “I did not tell you to stop. You will do another five laps for disobeying an order. Continue.”_

_._

_“I have told you to disarm me. All I saw was someone attempting a new sort of ridiculous dance. Begin again.”_

_._

_“Soldiers. I brought one of your instructors for today’s activities. Here, my good friend Jango Fett. You all know him or of him.”_

_He did not say anything about the groans of misery that echoed across the grounds, but a part of him cackled in glee._

_._

_“Ben…” quietly called Cody, his voice vacillating indecisively. “Maybe I can take it from here for their continued training?”_

_Oh, did Cody take pity on his men? Ben looked his friend up and down, his face like marble._

_“And maybe you’d like to join their efforts? Endurance today? Go join the runners, then,” he ordered._

_Cody took one long look at him and departed for the running tracks._

_._

_The healers and physicians had joined him for this day. He wanted the men prepared to administer first aid if the need arose. And he knew the need would arise._

_“Soldiers, today we will begin with a lesson about anatomy, then we will proceed with first aid equipment and use.”_

_He knew those of the medical profession were sadists at heart, even if they always told otherwise, and he knew the men would suffer under this new tutelage._

_But they would be ready._

¤

_He was given a datapad with a list of names on it. He recognized some of them, as they were in the military._

_“What is it, Cody? Did these people do something?”_

_“The reverse,” the General answered. “They did not do something.”_

_“What does that mean, my friend? You know, I thought I was the one with the mysterious riddles and mysterious air, but it seems it caught everyone; like a disease,” he replied with a light smile._

_“What can we say, Ambassador? We had a good mentor,” smirked Cody in reply._

_“Right,” Ben nodded. “Well, what about this list? What did they not do?”_

_“Complete their military training. Your training regimen and the one of Fett did not really adhere to them.”_

_He wanted to chortle, because he had been deliberately sadistic in it. It was to the benefit of the soldiers, however, because he knew about fighting in war and the absolute depravity of it. He wanted them to be prepared. More than prepared to face the reality of this, when it would inevitably been carried to their door._

_“And why brought it up to my attention? You are the High General.”_

_“Because they wanted to stay in a security force, even if not with the military,” Cody stated. “They wanted your approval for a police and security force’s creation on Tython.”_

_“Oh.”_

_It wasn’t a bad idea, it was rather a very good one, one he had not even thought about yet, because there had never been any need for it until now. However, he knew that realistically speaking, it would not last, not with the growth to their population and that tension between parties would arise with the number of their civilians._

_“Why would you bring this to me and not to Governor Shakaa?” he reiterated, indicating the datapad in his hand._

_“Well, I did not really know to whom I should bring this to. Is it to be a military sort of organisation or more of a civilian matter?”_

_Force! He did not think of that._

_He blinked slowly and thought about the problem, while a part of his mind was on another notion entirely: Cody was slowly turning into a political animal, what with his present status. Was that a good thing? The clones had not seen fighting and war for the moment and were doing what they wanted, so he would have to say yes, and yet…_

_Was he the one that had turned his friend to politics when he offered him the title of High General? Or would Cody have always turned to that sort of career in his last lifetime, had he not been enrolled in a galactic war? It was true that his close connection to Ben had been what gave him understanding of meetings between the higher echelons of the hierarchy, while the Clone Wars raged, but Ben had also sort of thought it was because the clones under their leadership were “imprinting” on them…_

_However, even without the War, Cody was still on this path._

_He would think about the “more the things changed, the more they stayed the same” idiom at a later time and about the Force’s Will in all this. In the meantime, he had to think about the new police force they wanted to create._

_“Why don’t you make a co-leadership between the civilians and the military?” Cody proposed with a shrug of his shoulders, when Ben was still silently pondering about the problem a few minutes later. “Seems like the more sensible thing to do.”_

_“Hmm…” Ben hummed in thought, his hand slowly passing over his bearded chin. “Why don’t we make it a three-way leadership? Civilians, Military and Force Users.”_

_Cody’s eyebrows rose on his forehead in surprise._

_“You want to join your Jedi to them?”_

_“Yes, why not?” Ben replied, nonchalant._

_“It’s just… Well, everyone thought you would stay apart from the rest of the planet’s population, like them Jedi in the Coruscant Temple.”_

_“Yes, well…” he trailed off. “It does not endear them to the rest of the galaxy, when they are being this reclusive. Why don’t we try and learn from their errors? And it’s not like we really keep to ourselves on Tython.”_

_“True. And that’s a good idea,” Cody recognized. “But who are you going to put in this position of leadership?”_

_Ben smiled._

¤

_“You want me to what?” Anakin cried in disbelief, circuits’ boards and other electronic devices forgotten on the table in front of him._

_“Take on one of the leadership position of the three-way police force we want to create on Tython,” Ben repeated efficiently._

_“Why?” his old friend asked and there was an odd sort of note in his voice._

_“Because that is what you have been doing for more than twenty long years, policing the galaxy into shape. Even if you were a Sith at that time. You are good at what you do, Anakin, and I know the thrill of the chase is appealing to you. However, I would certainly hope you do not try your forceful Sith tactics on Tython. Or anywhere else, for that matter.”_

_“What would be this position's duties, exactly?” the ex-Sith Lord questioned with a thoughtful frown._

_“It is still to determine.”_

_“Do I have a choice for my co-leaders?”_

_“Hmm… Well, I already asked Ren and Cody to choose for their Civilian and Military sides.”_

_“And what is the verdict?”_

_“Ren proposed a twi’lek female by the name of Barga Foss and Cody said that one of the military men volunteered for this police force: a Colonel Ponds Vodetti.”_

_“… Windu’s second-in-command?! The hell?! Is he anything like Master Mace_ “I-have-a-stick-up-my-a–” _”_

_“Anakin!” Ben cut him reproachfully._

_“– Windu as he was last time?” he finished._

_“Well…”_

_Anakin raised his eyebrows. That did not sound good._

¤

_“Why did you join this police force?” he rudely asked._

_He obtained only a raised eyebrow from the newly minted military leader of this police force for his rudeness. After a few seconds, during which he scolded himself for his thoughtless remark, he also gained a response to his question._

_“I brought to the attention of the High General, that a security and police force could necessitate a more stealthy approach in certain cases.”_

_Anakin reflected on that answer, before he asked another query, in a sudden bout of dawning understanding._

_“… What were your specialties in your training?”_

_“… Stealth and recon,” was the – subtly wry – reply, with a barely there smile that vanished nearly immediately._

_“Oh,” he stated, somewhat dumbfounded._

_He understood better now. Obi-Wan wanted a sort-of official spy network! Well. He could certainly work with that._

¤

“Now that everyone as a clear idea of what everyone will do in the future, let’s go over the next problem: I need emissaries for all the planets of the Coalition. I have a list here with me, and I want you to have a look at it and let me hear what you think.”

“You can’t take people that already have a job,” Anakin informed. “It’s going to be an all-day work to be an ambassador for the Coalition on the planets. These people need to have a backbone or the populations of the planets are going to trample them.”

“Yes,” Ben agreed. “This will be a normal reaction for them. The ex-slaves need to know the new limits of their freedom and the ex-slavers need to know the limits of _their own_ freedom and that of their ex-slaves too. Both will do that with different ways, but ultimately, for the same reason.”

“Why not send some of the soldiers with a Jedi or two?” proposed Rex. “That ain’t going to be easy to trample these ones.”

“True,” he answered. “But if we sent them like that, it will send the message that we have eyes on them and that our people are here to restrain them if the need arises. It is not what we want to pass to ex-slaves as a message.”

“Each planet has a different problem. We need someone to understand the problem of the planet in question to be the emissary,” Ren pointed out.

“Then, I want you to make a list of the civilians you think are the best as a planet’s emissary, Ren,” Ben finally ordered. “Each emissary will have a soldier and a Jedi as companion for each trip off-planet and on the planet in question. It will serve as a training exercise for the soldiers and the Jedi and it will serve as a protection for the civilian.”

¤

_“Oh… I did not think they were really serious when they demanded that I learn to swim,” the young Jedi stated at the soldier at his side, when they looked at the never-ending ocean of the planet Kamino._

_._

_“That’s not possible to live in this climate,” panted the soldier, taking off another layer of his clothes. “Who was the idiot who thought living on a planet with two suns would be fun?”_

_“Don’t dish on Tatooine,” laughed the Jedi next to him. “I heard they have the best cantinas in here!”_

_._

_“I told you there were dangerous creatures on the planet! That’s Ryloth for you!” cried the emissary, the muscles of his legs burning under the effort he was making by running._

_“How could I know they would be sensible to the change of mood in the Force?!” replied the Jedi. “And you!” he continued, while running, pointing a finger in the direction of the soldier who was running in front of them. “What the hell kind of thing it is to let a feral animal chew your weapon to slag! Don’t you have a second one?!”_

_“How could I know I would need another one on my first mission off-planet!” yelled the soldier._

_._

_“Maybe they’re pirates?” she said with hope in her voice._

_“I thought you Jedi were all about meditation and all that bantha crap,” snarked the soldier. “That’s not a pirate ship. That’s just visitors.”_

_“How would you know?” she asked. “Rattatak is known for their pirates’ raids.”_

_“Hey!” called suddenly the frantic voice of the emissary, who got out of the building to join them on the balcony. “That’s a non-authorized ship landing on the planet! They say they might be the pirates returning for revenge!”_

_“Ha!” was the enthusiastic cry of the female Jedi, while the soldier groaned._

¤

“Very well. We have other problem I want us to go over. The matter of Dooku and his Confederacy.”

He looked around the table and knew he had everyone’s attention.

“The man proposed a sort of alliance between us,” he declared and waited for the cries of protest to emerge.

“WHAT!” was Anakin’s yell, heard over everyone else impassionate cries of disbelief and outrage. “THAT VILE _SLEEMO_ –” and his old friend descended into a litany of vulgar swear words in many languages, before finishing by muttering in huttese.

Why was Anakin complaining, really? The ex-Sith Lord still had both his hands this time around, not one of them had been lost to Dooku, and the Count wasn’t even a proper Sith by his estimations. Not like Anakin or Maul had been, anyway.

“I swear, _Jetii_ , if you accept I will –” and Jango began with innovative threats to his life, but Ben was used to him by now and did not even blink.

He could understand Jango’s fears, because he had been on the pay check of the Count for the creation of the clones and had not really continued with his side of the contract, but really, the Bounty Hunter should know that Ben did not improvise or make impromptu decisions. He should have more faith in him.

“You want the Apprentice _here_?” hissed Maul, taking on a menacing air, his aura in the Force darkening with his mood. “You want to _ally_ _yourself_ with the _Sith Master_?” he continued venomously.

Maul was different from Anakin and Jango, in the sense that Dooku was his replacement at the side of Sidious as the Sith Apprentice. It did not really bother the zabrak, this change of place, Ben had no doubt, but it was the attention he could bring to Tython and their somewhat secretive nature that made him worried, angry and fearful. He knew Maul did not want to be face-to-face again with Sidious, more so with his change of affiliation and his more open understanding of the Force, not only the Dark Side of it.

He let the ruckus continue, knowing that letting all of that steam out now was better than when he had other news to share. Finally, after twenty minutes during which they all talked over themselves, he raised a hand and waited for silence. It took a full minute, but he was happy to know he did not even have to speak at all.

“Thank you,” he said to everyone when they finally let him talk. “I did not say that we would make an alliance. But we have to think about the repercussions of not creating an alliance and the ones of creating one. Which one will be the most beneficial at the end of the day for our planet and for the Coalition?”

He stopped them before they could respond.

“Those are not questions that can be answered in a single meeting. I want you to think about it carefully and reflect on our situation. Afterwards, you can give me your honest opinion.”

¤

_“Absolutely not,” was Anakin’s response. “Or… I thought about it and I came up with a plan: what if we form an alliance with the CIS, let him approach us and we can kill him like the backstabbing basta–”_

_“Thank you, Anakin, for your response,” cut Ben before he heard the ex-Sith Lord gleeful exclamations about the murder of Dooku, that he had planned in excrutiating details._

_._

_“I don’t care,” was Asajj’s answer. “Can I go, now? I promised to train Han in holding his ground when he has had more than his normal alcohol intake.”_

_“Normal?” he repeated with a blink. “_ Normal _, Asajj?!”_

_._

_“It could be a profitable alliance between the Confederacy and the Coalition,” Feral acknowledged.  “But is it more profitable for the Coalition than making our allies rebel against us if we welcome the Confederacy?”_

_The young zabrak had a point. Who was the more profitable for the galaxy at large?_

_._

_“No,” was all Maul said, before swooping out of Ben’s office._

_._

_“What are the profits of this alliance?” Jango asked him, entering his office like a large and hissing predator. “Is my head on his platter one of his demands?”_

_“Jango, he doesn’t know you’re here.”_

_“And when the clones are brought out of the dark?”_

_“The people of Tython are to be protected, always. That is not something I negotiate about. I am not a slaver trading lives at a whim. I_ do not _trade lives.”_

_“Then I don’t care.”_

_._

_Cody and Rex were shoulders to shoulders._

_“We trust you to make the best choice,” they said to him._

_._

_“You led us right until now,” Ren said to him. “I will continue to think that, until I have real proof of the contrary. So, if you think it is the right thing to do, I will not oppose you.”_

_._

_Savage only shrugged when Ben asked him what he thought about it._

_“You saved my brother from Sidious’ clutches. Maybe you can do the same with this Dooku,” he told him._

_Ben was more than shocked to hear that. Savage had been the only one of his companions to understand what his true goal was, when associating with the Count. When he asked how the zabrak knew, he received a slight smile in response._

_“The younglings don’t always have the words to express themselves. It becomes a useful trick to understand them without them saying anything. Plus, it is obvious when we think about it. We only have to see who you surround yourself with.”_

_._

_Yoda was the last one to come to him about the matter of Dooku._

_“Wait, you will. Dooku’s path, not yet set, it is. Make his choice, he has to.”_

_“Was my slight acquaintance with him enough for that, do you think, Master?” he asked, suddenly exhausted by the weight of it all._

_He needed the Grandmaster reassurances, more than he needed the answers of his companions._

_“Make him reconsider, you did. Not a little thing, it is. Up to him, the rest is,” the diminutive Jedi Master answered. “Give hope to this old Jedi, you did, Obi-Wan,” Yoda ended softly, before limping away._

¤

_“My Council is somewhat indeterminate about the matter of our alliance. Can we keep an open channel for the moment about this officially?”_

“Hmm…” _Dooku observed him thoughtfully._ “What about unofficially?”

_“I would like for us to be friends. And if the situation ever calls for it, allies.”_

_The Count raised an eyebrow in this superior manner of his, which, once upon a time, made him grit his teeth in sheer frustration at the simple gesture of supremacy._

“You would go behind the back of your Council on this? Why?”

_Ben sighed. The answer was difficult and many-fold._

_“Because I know we will need your help soon enough and you will need ours.”_

“Visions?” _Dooku demanded rather abruptly, his tone sharp, betraying his unease._

_Ben shook his head._

_“Premonitions. I have very good instincts about my feelings.”_

“This… does not bode well. For either of us.”

_“I know,” he sighed tiredly._

¤

“I don’t know if you heard about it, but we heard rumours about the resignation of Master Yoda from his seat at the head of the Jedi Order of Coruscant. Thoughts?”

He did not imagine the huff followed by a cackle that he thought he heard, if he had to judge by the quick widening of Anakin’s eyes and his rapid glance to the ceiling. He narrowed his eyes at the ex-Dark Lord to make him understand not to say a word, and then, tried to make it seem as if he had heard absolutely nothing.

“Do we have really the right to comment on that?” wondered out loud Ren. “I mean, it’s Jedi matters.”

Ben inclined his head in agreement.

“True, but the Coruscant Jedi are interested in the Jedi of Tython and what happens to the Jedi of our planet will have repercussions on the rest of the population,” he explained. “A change in leadership in the Jedi Temple of Coruscant could have many consequences for us.”

“I say,” Anakin told the room slowly, with a thoughtful frown on his face. “That we let them do their thing and if something happens that concerns us, we will deal with it at that time.”

“Well, Padawan,” Ben chirped cheerfully. “Sometimes, what you say _does_ make sense!”

He was already laughing when Anakin’s frown transformed into an angry scowl.

¤

_“No, Master, you will not take his place.”_

_“Hmmm.”_

_“And what do you want to do with the Yoda of this time? Put him on a shelf in a Force Sleep and wait for the right moment to wake him? That is not dealing with the problem!”_

_“If in the know, agree, he will, to retire to an isolated planet.”_

_“You want him to return to the swamp of Dagobah? Of his own free will?”_

_“With a comm and a ship, there he will be. Good for him, it will be. Take his place in the Temple, I could.”_

_“The problem with this plan, Master, is that we have to make him aware of what is happening. And we don’t really know how he will react.”_

_“To me, let the matter,” cackled the little troll._

¤

“Political climate, my friends. I want your opinions and point of view on it. Like about the idea of the Chancellor and the chancellorship.”

“We are not a part of the Republic,” Feral pointed.

“But we are enemies of Sidious,” Anakin returned. “Does that make us enemies of the Republic?”

“No,” denied Ben. “Only Sidious is our enemy.”

“For the moment,” muttered Maul.

Ben rolled his eyes.

“Do not jinx our luck anymore that it is already, Maul,” he told him.

“We can’t let him at the head of the Republic.”

“And how do you propose we do that, Ventress?” sneered Anakin at the dathomirian. “We aren’t even part of the Republic, we can’t officially do anything about it.”

“No,” Ben said, his brows suddenly pulled in a thoughtful pose. “But we may have other ways to undermine him and his grip on the Republic.”

“And what is it?” Ren questionned.

“If there is no more Republic, what would he be the Chancellor of?”

The silence in the room thickened with surprise and tension.

“How do you want to make the Republic disappear, then?” Anakin’s tone was light when he asked his question, but Ben detected the many emotion that layered it - and they ran from positives to negatives and back.

“With one planet at a time, of course,” he answered, as if it was obvious. “Did you know,” he continued. “That more and more planets are seceding from the Republic? The more unknown ones and far from the Core went to us or to the Confederacy or even to the whispers we hear about the Neutral Planets, but the more notable ones are beginning to set their eyes on other governments than the Republic.”

“You have your eyes on a planet already,” Jango stated. "Which one is it?"

He nodded and looked at his old friend and Padawan in the eyes.

“The beginning of the end of the Republic will start with Naboo.”

It was only right for their history to turn like that, he thought. With more irony.

¤

_“Why can’t I go to Naboo as the envoy you want to send?” Anakin whined to him._

_“Because they will recognize you and will alert the Jedi Temple, who will alert the Senate and the Sith. We can’t have that for the moment.”_

_“I could go incognito!” the ex-Sith Lord exclaimed. “Under a disguise and an alias!”_

_Ben opened his mouth, paused in thought, and then closed it. The idea had merits. He would need to think about it. And maybe he could accompany Anakin and the rightful delegate. They could pose as the security detail of the emissary. And snoop around Naboo when on the planet. Nobody looked twice at the guards and other protective measures.  
_

_“I’ll see what I can do,” he told his old friend._

_“Yeees!” Anakin whooped, while Ben rolled his eyes at the childish antics._

¤

“Questions?"

¤

“Well, that wasn’t so hard,” sighed Anakin as he and Ben made their way to the home of his old Padawan.

It was night and the air was crisp and fresh.

“No, indeed, it was worse,” he replied in exhaustion. “We’ll have to see how things go from here.”

“So wait and see?”

“So, wait and see,” he confirmed with a nod.

¤

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it was, people, with its 9k!
> 
> Kudos and comments are more than welcome! ;-)


End file.
